


Bread and Circuses

by ShelleyGraceCobalt



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 98,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShelleyGraceCobalt/pseuds/ShelleyGraceCobalt
Summary: He knew what was expected of him. By both of his masters. He always did. Until he was faced with a decision that would not only endanger his place in he world - but everyone he ever he cared about. Sometimes the best magic is that of a burden shared... Not my world...just my story. Graphic. Of age. SSHG non-canon - also on FFN





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Severus turned and stared at the small figure slumped on the floor, his face impassive as the metallic stench of the blood wafted into the air, assaulted his nose. The air was so thick with it that he could almost taste it. A telling sign that the revel had almost reached its crescendo. He kept his eyes hard as he took in what the Dark Lord had declared his gift, the pièce de résistance designed to cap off the evening with a bang, screams and a visual display so visceral it would be talked about for meetings to come. He knew it was his job to now continue the torture. Of mind, body and soul. By any means necessary. For the delight of the chosen few of course. They wanted a show. A spectacle. Bread and Circuses. They had dined, fuelling their bodies on the finest of foods. They had fed their depravity on the bodies of their victims, and now they were waiting for this final act. He knew what was expected of him. By the crowd, their excitement barley contained, behind him. By both of his masters. He always did. He knew he was to do all that was crucial in order to maintain his role amongst the Inner Circle, all the while executing the Dark lord’s orders as he strived to find balance between horrifically crossing the line that kept him on the side of light, doing all he could for the greater good. 

He felt his jaw clench, the muscle pulsing once before he let his face fall into his customary scowl, his dark gaze assessing as he bought his time, drawing out the tension until the atmosphere in the room could be cut by a knife. The precious minutes wasted as he glared at her innate, prone form, little more than a mass of dirty hair and filth lying in her own pool of deep crimson blood. It was everywhere, seeping slowly, bleeding her out as he contemplated just how what was to follow would ever be considered acceptable loss, a sacrifice of one for the many. He had no illusions as to what was to happen. To what he had to do. Nor to whom he had to do it. It was the hair, although matted, that had given her away. He lifted his eyes from her naked body, letting his gaze find that of the Dark Lord’s. He watched the creature nod, its eyes glittering in delight, a smile stretching the serpentine mouth horrifically, a caricature of the being he had once previously been.

 

‘On with it Severus.’ He all but bit out. ‘Your passion for dramatics has been noted.’

 

‘As you wish My Lord.’ His voice schooled, smooth, his expression neutral as he slowly drew his wand from within his voluminous black robes and lifted it, pointing the tip towards her body. ‘Rennervate.’ He drawled, over pronouncing each syllable as he drew out the moment once more. He watched her blink as his reviving spell washed over her. He folded his arms across his chest, the action making him appear larger, more bat-like, his robes draping around him to complete the effect as he waited or consciousness to overtake her completely. He saw the split second awareness resumed, her face screwed up in pain for a brief second before wide, brown terrified eyes met his. ‘Welcome back Miss Granger.’ He let a smile pull at the corner of his lips as he held her gaze. ‘I hope you’re having a nice time.’ He saw her swallow at his tone as he heard the chuckles of the others behind him. He began to pace, turning to face his audience, his back now to her as he prepared to give them exactly what they had been waiting for. ‘For too long now, you and your little friends have remained unchecked. Unpunished.’ He let the last word drip form his tongue, the menace behind it adamantly clear. ‘But tonight,’ he spun to face his victim once more, ’that all changes. Tonight you will be held accountable.’ He began to pace towards her, his steps, measured, deliberate. ‘I am so looking forward to giving you exactly what you deserve.’ 

He watched as she attempted to drag her injured, bleeding body backwards from him, her movements, her speed unable to match his gait as he closed the distance, his body towering over hers as she cowered now before him, unable to retreat no further. He crouched down, allowing his robes to engulf her, enfolding her slightly into his embrace. He leant forward shifting further into her space, his action designed to both provoke his audience and allow him to converse solely with her. ‘I need you to do exactly as I say Miss Granger,’ he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, ‘Can you do that?’ He felt her shudder against him, her body trembling as she tried to shrink away. He rocked back on his heels slightly, reaching down he grabbed her face, his grip light despite the way he held his muscles taut for those waiting behind him. He angled her face to his then, allowing him to hold her gaze once more. ‘I need you to defy me. Miss Granger. Can you do that? Can you be the insufferable-know-it-all for me?’

 

It was his voice, quiet, soft that drew her attention fully to him. His expression gentle despite his dominate position over her caused her brow to furrow as she processed his words. Defy him? She nodded once. Oh that she could do. She had every intention to do. To her dying breath. She watched as he leant forward once more, releasing her face, dropping his hands to rest one on her shoulder, the other falling to rest on his thigh. She felt his breath against her cheek as his lips found her ear once more.

 

‘That’s a girl. I knew you were still in there somewhere.’ He whispered before he rocked backwards again, distancing themselves as he began to laugh, the sound rich, full and so very out of place in the situation. ‘You can’t fight me, you stupid girl. Just look at where you are.’ He gestured to the ballroom behind him, the spectators around them. ‘Look at WHO you are. You are pathetic. Inferior.’ He turned his gaze and locked dark eyes on hers ‘I’ll give you one chance to get the upper hand, and then, I will make you so very sorry.’ He watched the expression race across her features, confusion, defiance, anger, fear. ‘Do it.’ He bellowed then, resorting to shocking her into action. ‘Hit me. I know you want to.’ He watched then as she lifted a hand slowly before suddenly lashing out, her fist connecting with his chest, her body shifting to lunge forward as she found momentum and attempted to shove him out of the way. He caught her easily, wrapping her in his arms, pinning her body against his. ‘That’s it?’ He grinned, as he manoeuvred her bodily under him, trapping her as he lay her out. He heard the groans as his robes draped over her body, shielding her once more from view. ‘Scream for me.’ 

He kept his voice loud enough to be heard over the vocalised displeasure as he lifted his body up enough to let him push a hand between them, his palm landing against her ribs, his touch settling against her skin feeling the slickness from the blood, the racing of her pulse. He started a count, as he loomed over her, resting on his elbow as he looked down at her face now contorted in fear. He dropped his head, leaning closer to her ear, knowing his robes hid what he was doing, his true slightly separated position allowing her space while seeming as though he was encroaching, forcing himself on her, a leg pushed between her thighs, his chest pushed against hers. ‘I need you to focus Miss Granger.’ He squeezed his hand gently against her ribs, her small intake of breath confirming his suspicions; her ribs were definitely broken. ‘Hermione,’ he breathed against her ear. ‘Listen to me.’ He caught her eyes again, holding her focus. ‘I need you to scream.’ He nodded as her eyes widened again. ‘Now.’

 

She hesitated for a split second before she felt the increasing pressure on her side, his thumb pushing against her broken rib, pain radiating through her whole body. She opened her mouth and screamed loudly, from pain and shock, her tortured sound cut off as his hand shifted in one rapid movement from her side to her mouth. Her eyes searched his as he sealed off the very sound he had asked her, commanded her, taunted her to make.

 

‘I need you to listen now.’ He whispered, his lips back against her cheek, his hair falling against her skin, obscuring them both from view. ‘No matter what happens next I need you to stay exactly where you end up.’ He felt her shake her head against his hand. He let his body rock as though being fought against. ‘But first, I need you to punch me.’ He reared back, lifting his torso away from her as he now knelt over her. ‘You still think you can fight me girl? You still think you can win?’ He hurled down at her. He watched the anger spread across her face, the defiance reaching her eyes as she clenched a fist and tensed her jaw. ‘You have nothing. You ARE nothing.’ 

 

Hermione grit her teeth together and in one movement she swung her arm, aiming her fist at his nose as she lifted a leg, bringing her knee to connect with his groin. She saw his eyes widen slightly, heard the quick exhale before she felt the sudden movement, his body pinning hers to the ground once more, her hands held down stretched up over her head.

 

‘You will pay for that.’ His voice menacing and hard. He raised his body away from her as he lifted a hand back, his wand slipping seamlessly from his robes and into his hand the wood throbbing in his palm as the magic swelled in him. ‘Now.’ He muttered something under his breath, his robes billowing now as the air began to move violently about them. Her hair whipped into her eyes as a light sparked, there was a crack as he withdrew even further, the girl before him deathly pale, her once brown eyes clouded over. ‘Avada Kedavra.’ He let the words come loudly as he stood up, rapidly distancing himself from her now stilled body. He turned then to face his audience, their audible gasps filling the silence. He lowered his head. ‘I am sorry my Lord.’ He kept his voice low, reverent. ‘I tried but found I could not bring myself to tolerate that filth any longer.’ He bowed lower, his hair flopping to cover his eyes, his wand falling to his side. ‘I am sorry if this displeases you.’

 

‘You killed the Mudblood Severus.’ Voldemort smiled as he began to circle the body. ‘I am most pleased.’


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hermione blinked before scrunching her face against the wave of agony that washed over her, ripped through her. The flash of light still played behind her tightly closed eyes, blurring her vision and making her head pound worse. She lay still for a moment trying to get her body under control, to breathe through the pain and to determine where she now was and what she should do, how she should escape. She took another breath as she accessed the damage to her body. She felt the nausea rise as she began to truly feel the different injuries as the adrenalin wore off. She swallowed, attempting to roll onto her side and push herself into a seated position. She gasped as the movement jostled her ribs, the skin of her wounded back pulling tight proving to be just as excruciating. ‘I have to get up.’ She whispered, trying to coax her battered body up even more, her hand pressing down on something soft, smooth. She let her eyes open, dropping her head forward to look at where she was resting. 

She squeezed her eyes closed before opening them repeatedly, rapidly trying to force them to adjust to the flickering light originating from the fireplace just to the left of where she now found herself; in a large room, warm, comfortable, a complete contrast to where she had left, the opulence of the ballroom dulled through a haze of pain, offering nothing of the comfort this room with its most basic of furnishings could. She could just lie down, give in to the burning desire to rest, let her body recover she thought, feeling her eyes slowly droop closed, her sheer exhaustion warring with her need to move, to escape. She shook her head quickly, dismissing the possibility of rest in favour of fleeing wherever she now was. ‘I have to go.’ She crawled herself towards the edge of the bed, no longer willing to stay stationary for fear of succumbing to the temptation the soft bedding was offering her. ‘Come on Hermione. You have to go.’ She slowly lowered a leg to the side of the bed, her foot finding the cold stone floor. She inhaled quickly at the shock of the temperature change, her resolve to move rapidly leaving her. ‘I have to go.’

 

A second flash of light caught her attention a moment before a hand landed gently on her shoulder, holding her in place. ‘No.’ The small elf told her, its voice soft, ears hanging by its head, its eyes wide and sad. ‘Must stay. Master said stay.’

 

‘Master?’ Hermione tried to push her way past the small elf. ‘I can’t…’

 

‘Sage promised Master.’ She nodded solemnly. ‘Little Missy must stay. Little Missy hurt.’ She lifted her hand from Hermione’s shoulder to cover her eyes, pushing her backwards to lie on the bed once more. ‘Sage help Little Missy til Master comes back.’

 

‘No. Please.’ Her voice choked as her eyes welled with tears, her ordeal now fully catching up to her, the events of the last few days overwhelming her.

 

‘Have to.’ Sage nodded once, adamant. ‘You heard. Master said.’

 

Words floated across her memory then. ‘No matter what happens next I need you to stay exactly where you end up.’ She could hear his deep voice speak the words in her ear, almost feel his breath ghost across her cheek. Snape! He was the Master. And he was coming back. She tried to struggle, to push against the little elf, but she was much too weak from her hours of torture. ‘I cant. Please…’ she heard herself beg as she felt a wash of warm magic cover her skin, her eyes growing heavy, closing against her will.

 

‘Master take care of you. Make Little Miss all better.’ Sage told her, her soft voice sincere in her belief, her faith in her master. She watched as the girl her master had ordered her to transport to his chambers surrendered to the calming, protective stasis-like sleep she had induced. She stepped back and reached down beside the bed, retrieving the item she had borrowed, an item she truly needed to return before it was discovered missing. She slid the cloak over the sleeping girl, her body phasing out of view, the bed, the chambers appearing empty once more.

 

§§§§

 

Severus landed with a loud crack, too tired to control his entry into the school, glad for probably the only time since his instatement as Head Master for the ability to move through the Castle’s protective and anti-apparition wards. He landed heavily in the center of his room, staggering for a second before righting himself. He straightened, stretching his spine and took a deep breath to collect himself. The revel, the Dark Lord’s depraved celebrations had run longer then he had planned, not concluding with the ‘death’ he had delivered as expected. It had drawn on and while he had not participated he had been required to play witness. He only hoped Sage had been able to safely detain his new guest. He glanced towards the bed, noticing when he squinted the faint outline only he knew to look for. He released the breath he had been holding, relieved that all his work, his subterfuge, his deceit had not been for nothing. Now, he just needed to heal her and make her come to see his point of view, to not fight him and his intentions. He shifted slightly, collapsing into the chair beside the bed, letting his body relax for the first time since he had been summoned to the mansion. 

His head dropped forward, his hair flopping to hang, covering his closed eyes as he let his magic regroup in order for him to do the best by the girl now resting on his bed. He felt a shift in the air, a movement past his elbow. He opened his eyes to see his house elf, Sage shimmer from existence, a cup of steaming tea left on the arm rest of his chair. ‘Thank you.’ He muttered quietly as he wrapped his hands about the cup, savouring the warmth, knowing his elf would hear his gratitude wherever she may be now. He took a sip as he mentally began cataloguing the injuries he knew he would be treating, the steps needed, the spells and potions required to heal the girl. He let her image float into his consciousness as he tried to recall exactly what he had seen, where he needed to start. He wandlessly and wordlessly cast a quick tempus, checking to see how long it had been since he had whispered the spell to slow and stop her bleeding. Knowing Lucius and Bellatrix amongst others had begun her interrogation and torture only made him fear further that he had not done enough, that he would be unable to save her, that is efforts to save her would prove once again futile. He let his mind drift, carefully shifting through his memories of past revels, of past interrogations of prisoners, of past tortures of innocent muggles. He swallowed back the vast array of degeneracy and debauchery that invaded his mind. Jumping to his feet, ignoring his protesting body, his exhaustion, the fact that it was still only early hours of the morning he paced quickly to the hearth, threw in a handful of powder and stumbled through the green flames of the floo to his voiced destination.

 

§§§§

 

Minerva McGonagall’s eyes snapped open at the sound of her fire flaring to life. She was on her feet the instant he stumbled into her chambers, her wand in hand, targeting every step he took in her direction. ‘So, now I have to tolerate your presence out of hours too?’ she snapped, her green eyes blazing as she took in his appearance in her rooms way before the sun rose.

 

Ignoring her ire, keeping his face carefully blank he locked his black gaze on hers. ‘I need you to come with me.’

 

Minerva straightened to her full height, her wand still aimed. ‘And if I don’t want to?’

 

‘I don’t have time for this.’ He muttered quietly, his hair shielding his face from view. ‘She doesn’t have time.’ His face smug as his wandless, wordless, uniquely altered Immobulus rendered her immoveable, frozen to the spot, only her face, her eyes, her expression remained unfrozen.

 

‘Release me this instant.’ She demanded, her eyes burning with a frustration bordering on hatred.

 

He shook his head then, his eyes dropping to the floor, his shoulders slumping as the gravity of the situation hung over him. ‘Only if you promise not to fight me.’ His voice quiet, almost defeated. ‘If you ever believed there was good in me.’ He lifted his eyes to hers, his expression unguarded for the first time in as long as he could remember. His fear, his vulnerability, his distress all visible to his once mentor and colleague. ‘I need you to trust me, Minerva. Please.’

 

‘Well you certainly make me want to trust you right now.’ She continued to glare at him. ‘Silently charming me into submission I must say is the way to go.’

 

‘I’m sorry.’ He held her gaze, his countenance sincere. ‘For it all.’ He lifted a hand, his sweeping gesture erasing his spell, the Immobolus lifting, freeing her to move.

 

‘I’ve never heard you apologize before Severus.’ She softened her tone then, watching the near broken man before her struggle to regain his stoicism.

 

‘I’ve never truly had reason too.’ He kept his eyes downcast, his voice dejected.

 

‘And now you do?’ She questioned, her brow furrowed as she tried to read his true intentions.

 

‘I will explain.’ He took a step backwards towards the fire. ‘But right now we are wasting time. Please, just follow me through.’ He turned then, throwing a handful of powder into the flames. ‘Headmaster Snape’s Private chamber.’ He stated evenly. With a final quick glance over his shoulder at her, he took his leave.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Minerva paused for a second watching the flames where the Headmaster had disappeared. His unannounced arrival into her chambers had surprised her. His countenance, his apology even more so. Carefully she tucked her wand into her loose bun as she weighed the pros and cons of acquiescence to his request. Before Albus’ death she had never had any reason to doubt him. He had always seemed steadfast, reliable and dependable, if not a bit distant, cold. Yet now there was nothing but doubt in her mind. Usually he was unapproachable, unshakeable in his directive for school order. He was unreadable, his face a mask of contempt or disinterest, his eyes sharp and judging. But tonight, he had been open, his eyes pleading her to listen, the slight waver in his voice almost begging for her trust, her compliance. His moment of complete and total vulnerability, his glassy tearful eyes, his quiet demeanour acted in direct contrast to everything she had seen from him, including his action of silently charming her as though through force he could gain her trust. She also knew that he had regretted that action the moment it had been executed. She had seen it in his expression, his change in demeanour, his downturned eyes and stooped shoulders. She knew that whatever had made the proudly stoic man falter before her was the very reason she would now follow him to where he had wanted her to go. She lifted her cloak from the end of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders before she approached the fire. Taking a deep breath, she called her destination, ducked and stepped through ready to meet whatever was waiting on the other side.

 

Straightening, she brushed the loose ash from her shoulder as she let her eyes wander around the man’s most private quarters. He was pacing, his face still distraught, his eyes glancing towards his bed every so often, his attention clearly elsewhere. She watched him pause, turn back to face her direction, his eyes widening slightly as he finally discovered her presence. Her head tilted slightly as she took in yet another moment of unguardedness, of inattention. She had never known him to be surprised by anyone.

 

‘You came.’ His relief almost palpable.

 

‘You asked me to Severus.’ Looking at him now she could see the student he had been, the young man desperate for approval, the new teacher striving for acceptance and respect. Standing before her now was not the Death Eater, the Dark lord appointed disciplinarian Headmaster, cold-blooded killer. Standing before her was just a man. The man she had very much liked. The man whose sarcasm and wit she had enjoyed far more than she cared to admit. The man she had believed she could count on. Before his betray, before the deceit.

 

‘Still, I didn’t think…’ His voice faltered as his throat closed. He coughed softly. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.’ He looked back at her face then, his eyes finding hers once more. ‘I need your help.’

 

She crossed her arms over her chest, unsure now. ‘Very well.’ Her voice as sceptical as her expression.

 

‘But first, I need you to promise you will hear me out.’ He let a small smile tug at his lips. ‘Please don’t go all Gryffindor on me.’ He schooled his features once more as he implored her. ‘Just listen.’

 

‘Hmmm.’ Minerva pursed her lips. ‘I’m not sure I can agree to not react.’ She held up a hand to silence the interruption she could see he wished to make. ‘But I will listen first.’

 

‘It’s all I can ask.’ He nodded once in acknowledgement of her concession. ‘I have no easy way to tell you this. I don’t even know where to, how to…’ He turned away from her as he ran a hand through his hair.

 

‘Severus just tell me.’ Minerva interrupted his stalling, his unease. She watched as the muscles in his shoulders tensed. ‘I can tell it’s going to be bad.’

 

‘Worse.’ The word spoken was barely a whisper, yet the underlying self-hate, the hopelessness was all too clear.

 

‘I’m ready.’ Minerva sat on the edge of the couch, her nerves pulsing in anticipation to hear whatever it was that had shaken the man before her.

 

‘By breakfast tomorrow you will hear that I have killed Hermione Granger.’ He spoke the words with little emotion, his back still towards her, unguarded. He caught the rustle of fabric as she stood, heard the gasp that told him she had heard every one of his softly spoken words. He tensed again, preparing for the hex he was certain would follow.

 

‘Severus. No.’ Minerva, too shocked to do more than stand, let her words beg for something different. ‘Let it not be true.’

 

He turned to face her then before slumping to sit in the chair beside the bed. ‘It’s not.’ He shook his head. ‘But it has to be.’

 

Minerva dropped back onto the couch, her hand to her chest, over her racing heart. ‘I don’t understand.’

 

He leant forward then and resting his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands, his eyes boring a hole directly into the floor. ‘She had been captured Minerva. I didn’t know. I got there as soon as I could. Once I had been summoned and the extent of what had happened, of who they held captive was revealed I asked to be the one to break her.’ He heard the next gasp, saw the wand point in his direction once more. He made no move to fight, to resist. ‘I was gifted,’ he sneered the word, ‘the opportunity. After dinner, as entertainment. So I made my plans.’ He lifted his eyes back to hers, watching the distress, the fury, the disappointment as it radiated across her features, surprised that she was still honoring her word to listen, surprised she was still letting him talk. ‘When she was presented to me.’ He shook his head again, his expression distraught, ‘She’d been tortured. I don’t know for how long. But it was bad. She was unconscious.’ He ran a hand through his hair before letting it fall over his face. ‘I hurt her further. I taunted her and I threatened her.’

 

‘Severus, what did you do?’ her voice was strained, her eyes locked onto the top of his head, her wand still pointed at his chest.

 

‘I did what I had to. To make them believe I meant to kill her.’ He swallowed then. ‘All the while wandlessly and silently casting spells to stop the blood flow, to alleviate her pain and to buy her time.’ He clasped his hands together as he lifted his head. ‘I hoped she would understand what I was trying to tell her.’ He shrugged. ‘But I’m not so sure I succeeded.’

 

‘So you did kill her.’ Her tone one of accusation, her body tensed to react.

 

‘For all intents and purposes I did.’ He kept his hands lowered, his body defenceless.

 

‘I can’t…’ Minerva stood again.

 

‘I used my robes to cover her body, my body position to distract the others as I let my plan fall into place. I let them think I was assaulting her as I had Sage switch the bodies.’

 

‘You switched…’ Minerva shook her head. Her wand shook as her hand trembled. ‘Severus you lost me. Is Hermione dead?’

 

‘I used polyjuice on a previous victim. So yes, to the world Hermione Granger is dead. I killed her.’ His voice absolute once more. ‘But in reality she is here. And I need you to help to save her. Heal her.

 

‘Where?’ Minerva stalked across the room and grabbed his shoulders. ‘Where is she? Severus. Tell me.’

 

‘Here.’ Her gestured towards his bed.

 

‘Show me.’ She demanded.

 

‘I’m not sure how extensive the damage is. I had Sage put her in a calming stasis until I could be here.’ He looked back up her, his face resigned. ‘I may be many things. I may be always considered untrustworthy. And I may be held accountable for a decision I made as a child, but I am not a man who preys on women against their will. I am not someone who could do,’ he gestured at the girl’s still covered body, ‘this.’

 

‘What do you need from me Severus?’ Minerva placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘What can I do?’

 

‘Honestly?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t even know what I have to do.’ He ran a hand across his eyes. ‘The damage will be extensive.’ He caught her look and nodded. ‘I will need to treat every injury individually.’

 

‘But you can save her?’ the desperate plea now in Minerva’s voice.

 

‘I only hope I can.’ Severus turned to face his bed once more, his action dislodging her hand from him. ‘I am going to have to…’ his voice faltered, trailing off for a second. ‘Oh hell Minerva, I’m going to have to examine and tend to every last inch of the girl,’ he took a deep breath, ‘and then I’m going to have to make her re-live the torture so I can be certain that I healed everything.’

 

Minerva replaced her hand on the back of his shoulder, hoping that her action, her touch was bringing him the comfort she had been intending., even if only for a moment. ‘Why am I here? So far everything is dependent on you.’

 

‘I need you to play witness.’ He stood tense, his tone expressionless, his face equally devoid of emotion.

 

‘Look at me Severus.’ Minerva demanded then. She waited until he had turned to face her. ‘You need me to bear witness. To what exactly?’ He shook his head, his expression telling her his desperation, his discomfort. ‘Now is not the time to withhold Severus. I need to know.’

 

‘It will all be so very personal.’ He spoke very softly, his emotions laid bare. ‘After everything, the torture, the suggestion and torment. I do not want her to think I am abusing her too.’

 

‘Oh Severus.’ Her voice as quiet as his. ‘Why would she…’

 

He did not let her finish the statement. ‘Why wouldn’t she? Everyone is so very quick to assume the worst where I am involved.’ He let his face fall to the floor. ‘This would be no different. I need her to know I tried my best. To protect her. To treat her with dignity. I just need someone else to know that I didn’t take advantage.’ He whispered, his words getting more quiet with each sentence he spoke.

 

‘I’m sorry. So very sorry.’ Minerva placed a hand on his cheek, lifting his eyes back to hers.

 

‘Now is not the time for apologies.’ He shook his head.

 

‘I’m still making one.’ Minerva held his gaze. ‘The first of many, I’m sure. Thank you for trusting me, for giving me a chance to listen.’

 

‘I could not let her die Minerva. I will not. But I can’t do this without you. I can’t do this alone anymore.’ He turned back to face the bed, his hand reaching for where he knew the edge of the invisibility cloak was. 

 

‘You’re not going to be alone anymore Severus. I vow this to you.’ She stepped up beside him, her wand ready. ‘Now let’s see about healing Miss Granger.’ She turned her head to face him. ‘And then’ She nodded, mentally preparing herself for all that was to possibly follow. ‘Then you can tell me everything.’


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

With his body angled away from Minerva, his face unreadable from where she stood Severus tightened his grip on the corner of the cloak, preparing to reveal the girl and all her gory detail. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, delaying the inevitable.

‘Severus, it’s going to be alright.’ Minerva leant forward and placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers into the cloak she could feel but still not see. ‘We will do it together.’

He swallowed, ‘She is going to be worse than you can possibly imagine.’ Letting his face turn to hers, his eyes imploring her to understand his hesitancy, his fear he continued. ‘Please, you have to know. I did not…’ he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. ‘I could not do this. I didn’t do any of this.’

‘Oh Severus.’ Minerva wrapped her free arm over her body to place her hand on his bicep. She gave him a gentle squeeze. ‘I believe you. I truly do.’

He nodded once, resigned to having to trust that she was speaking the truth, that she would honor her words and not curse him once her prized student was bared to her eyes. ‘Very well.’ He slowly pulled, letting the cloak slide from the girl, feeling Minerva’s hand tighten her grip on his wrist, her nails now digging into his skin as the damage was revealed, inch by inch, bloody gash by bloodier gash.

‘Oh my god. Severus.’ Her breath caught, her words strained.

‘I tried to warn you.’ His tone steady.

‘I know.’ She shook her head, clearing the tears, trying to detach herself from the situation, from the fact that she was looking at the mutilated body of her favorite student. ‘But… This… This is… How can you?’

‘I have had more time to adjust.’ His voice, his expression neutral, free from emotion.

‘I can’t…’ Minerva’s voice trailed off as she shook her head, blinked back tears, knowing she was not helping anyone in the room by letting herself become hysterical.

‘I have seen this before. I am, sadly, no stranger to this.’ He spoke quietly. He schooled his features then as he shook his hand free and directed his eyes, his focus only on the girl in front of him. ‘I am going to have to remove the stasis from her. To assess her completely.’

‘What can I do?’ Minerva shifted to the other side of the bed, her hands free, her eyes watching the man before her as he studied the injured girl between them.

‘Just be here.’ He dropped forward, his knee resting on the bed beside where Hermione lay, still unconscious. He reached a hand forward and pressing two fingers against her throat he began to count as he let his eyes run over what he could see of her body quickly making mental note of his necessary triage, his assessment hindered by the copious amounts of blood coating her skin and hair.

She saw his brow furrow as his eyes roamed over the girl in the bed between them. ‘Severus?’

He straightened then, ignoring her, too caught up in his own cataloguing to answer. ‘Sage.’ He turned away from the bed as he waited for the little elf to appear, pacing his way across the floor, thinking, prioritizing his next moves. He paused as his house elf shimmered into existence. ‘Can you run the bath Sage? Please?’

‘Master’s special?’ The little elf tilted her head as she looked up at her master.

‘Please.’ Severus nodded once, knowing that she would fill the bath with the unique healing concoction he had developed since the return of the Dark Lord, knowing that Sage would know the correct mixes of dittany, wiggenweld and wound cleaning potions to add to the warm water, having tended his numerous injuries solely for the last few years. 

‘I is on it.’ Sage smiled. ‘For little miss.’ She took a step backwards. ‘I helped.’

Minerva watched as he stepped forwards towards the small house elf, surprised that he was so respectful, thankful and polite to the creature. She shook her head, dismissing that as she silently remanded herself, knowing that for all intents and purposes, Severus Snape when dealing with others he appeared to deem suitable, while still detached, he was always excessively formal and polite. She watched in awe then as he reached a large hand and gently scruffed the elf on the top of her head, between the ears.

‘You did very well, Sage.’ He smiled softly down at her. ‘I am most pleased.’ 

‘Thank you.’ She bowed slightly under his praise, beaming before popping from sight. The sound of running water filtering into the room, corresponding with her departure.

She watched him turn back to face her again.

‘What?’ A heavy brow rising at her expression.

‘You were very kind Severus.’ She spoke quietly. ‘To the elf.’

‘I always try to be.’ He stepped back beside the bed. He leant forward and with a smooth brush of his hand down over Hermione’s face, from forehead to chin, his hand only centimeters above her, he lifted the stasis spell. ‘Whenever I can.’ He bent further forward then, placing his knee as support on the bed and slid his arms under her knees and shoulders. Watching for signs of distress, he lifted her gently into his arms. ‘But for a very long time, it has just been Sage and I.’ He straightened, cradling the girl against his chest and turned, stalking off towards the bathroom and the now run bath, leaving Minerva in his wake.

She followed quietly, sedately behind as she contemplated exactly what she was playing witness too. Never in a million years would she have believed that he was capable of such tenderness, such care. But then, she pondered further, she apparently didn’t know him as well as she had thought she did. Stepping into the bathroom after him, she once again found herself both shocked and amazed at the lengths he would go to. To make amends for whatever sins he felt he was accountable for, and for whatever misdeeds and atrocities the blame had been lumped upon him. She stepped up beside the deep sunken tub, her hands coming to rest on the rim as she watched him gently run his hand over the girl’s forehead, brushing her hair backwards as he rinsed away the blood, the girl’s body cradled still against his chest, the Headmaster almost fully submerged, still clothed and in his boots as he supported her in the water. ‘I didn’t know Severus.’ She spoke quietly, as though to disturb the scene before her would be an injustice.

‘You weren’t supposed to.’ He responded just as softly, his eyes never straying from the girl in his arms, his ministrations never faltering, the water growing darker, redder with each pass of his hand, the cloth over her body.

‘I could have been an ally.’ She picked up a spare cloth and began assisting Hermione’s clean up.

‘I was not supposed to have any.’ His voice filled with such loathing, such self-hatred. ‘My job was to suffer alone in silence. To appear to be the Death Eater everyone believed I was.’ He looked at her then. ‘It’s only because she is here that you are.’

‘I should have…’

He interrupted her then, his voice hard, his actions still gentle as he tended the girl. ‘There was nothing you should have done. I accepted long ago what I was. Who I am. I resigned myself to play my part. To end the war. And that meant I had to take the fall. Take the blame. For it all.’ He let his eyes drop back to the girl in his arms, feeling her move slightly against him, hearing a soft whimper as she slowly sought to regain consciousness. He lowered his head further, lining his mouth up with her ear as he pulled her closer to him her back as close to his chest as he dared, her injuries till untreated there. ‘You’re safe little one.’ He whispered, his voice deep and low, soothing, his lips almost brushing against her hair. ‘I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.’ He felt her succumb completely to sleep once more, her body growing heavy in his arms.

‘Severus…’

‘Don’t.’ He interrupted her again, not wanting to hear her apology. He had played his role to perfection, and so had she; hating the new regime he was forced to employ, rebelling at every chance to keep the students from the Dark Lord’s control, spewing her vitriol, her displeasure to all who would listen.

Minerva sensed his discomfort with her continual need to apologize and quickly sought to change the topic before he closed himself off entirely, knowing all too well her words were selfish, designed to make her feel better, that only actions would now speak of her repentance. ‘How did your elf know what to put in the water?’

‘What makes you think there is something other in here?’ He quirked a brow, impressed with how seamlessly she had caught onto his desire to no longer speak of things that could not be changed.

‘Other than you, you mean?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You may be the potions master Severus, but I can smell certain additions. Dittany perhaps.’ She ran her hand across the surface of the water. ‘I can feel it too. It’s thicker.’

‘It’s usually just me in here.’ He spoke quietly again as he gathered the girl more securely into his arms and prepared to climb from the tub now that she was clean enough to examine fully, satisfied his medicinal fusion was healing the most basic of her wounds and would allow him to tend to the more severe. ‘After the revels.’

She turned away, ashamed that this was the first time she had ever thought about him being injured, being tortured, being alone. ‘How often?’

‘Every time.’ He responded, his voice even. ‘I have grown accustom.’

‘I’ve never noticed.’ She kept her attention away from him, bringing a fist to her mouth as she drew a deep troubled breath. ‘Did anyone ever check you were alright?’

‘Why would they?’

At that, at his words and his tone of such self-deprecation she spun back to face him. ‘Why would they? Why wouldn’t they Severus?’

‘To ask would imply they care.’ His voice held no accusation, just resignation and acceptance.

‘Well, now you have me. And I care.’ Her eyes filled with tears at his lack of conviction, of self-worth.

‘I don’t have many friends Minerva. Not too many care about me.’ He smiled slightly then. ‘I have a job to do. And that is the extent of my interaction here.’ He gently lay Hermione onto the bed, a flick of his wrist bringing a towel to his hand. A second drying his clothes and dragonhide boots. He lay the towel over the girl’s body preserving what he could of her dignity once more.

‘Not anymore.’ Minerva stepped up to him and wrapped her arms about him, pulling him close. ‘If I had known…’

‘There is much you don’t know…’ He fought his mind, struggling to keep his distance as he so desperately wanted to just fall into her embrace and enjoy the comfort, the touch she was providing.

‘If I had known.’ She interrupted him, holding him tighter, feeling him relax somewhat into her embrace as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Severus, I would have…’

He stiffened then. ‘I’ve already told you too much.’ He attempted to take a step backwards, to distance himself once more. ‘More than I ever should.’

‘Not by a long shot, Laddie.’ Minerva kept her hands on his biceps, her Scottish brogue becoming thicker in her reprimand. ‘You’re going to tell me everything you know.’

He smirked then. ‘Rest assured Minerva, I will never tell you everything I know.’


	5. Chapter 5

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Warnings apply - Graphic content to follow.

Chapter 5

‘Well that’s not the response I was hoping to elicit from you.’ Minerva took a step back and let her hug morph into a gentle slap on the back of his shoulder. 

He bristled under her apparent attack, her change of attitude, his fatigue, his concern for the girl still lying sleeping on his bed not allowing him to her the teasing in Minerva’s tone. ‘What do you want from me woman?’ He spun to face her, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. ‘Blind allegiance now that I have shown you an inch. You going to take a mile too?’ He folded his arms over his chest and stood to his full height, glaring down at her.

She took a small step backwards, her hands coming up in front of her in acquiescence, surprised at his sudden mood swing. ‘I would never.’ She shook her head. ‘I was teasing Severus. You’re always so quick to react. To see the worst…’

‘Well that’s the pot calling the kettle isn’t?’ He kept his eyes hard his tone equally so. ‘Am I not the worst of the worst? Am I not held in the worst of caliber? Has this not always been the case?’

‘So you’re conditioned to respond to threat with anger?’ She stood taller then. ‘I cannot trust if you are not honest with me Severus.’ She held up a hand to stall his interruption. ‘And I promised I would. So let me.’

‘Let you?’ He continued to glare at her.

‘Let me in.’ 

‘You’re already in.’ He made a wide sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating that her presence in his rooms was in enough.

‘Not what I meant. And you know it.’ She pointed a finger at him. ‘I know you want my help. I know you desperately want my trust and support. I heard it in your voice. I can see it in your eyes Severus. You need me to trust you.’

He let his head drop forward, his hair flopping to obscure his face. ‘But at what cost?’ 

The words though whispered still reached her ears. She felt her heart twinge at his tone, at his now defeated demeanor. ‘I just want honesty Severus.’ She spoke just as quietly. 

‘Not blind loyalty.’ She moved her hands slowly, reaching to lay her palm on his bicep. ‘I will not ask for more than you can give.’

He glanced up at her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of manipulation, of deceit. Satisfied he responded dryly. ‘Then you would be the first.’

‘The first?’ She felt her own eyes narrow to mirror his.

‘Everything I do had been for the betterment of someone else. At the behest of someone else.’ He glanced away then, his eyes finding the girl once more. ‘Or so they thought.’

‘Who thought? Whose orders?’ She reached for his face, her hand gripping his chin and turning him back to look at her. ‘The Dark Lord’s.’ She felt his slight nod, his only admission to her question. ‘Albus?’ Her voice rising to almost a shriek in disbelief as she dropped the previous headmaster’s name. She felt his jaw tense, saw his eyes dart away from hers once more. ‘Tell me it’s not true Severus. Tell me he didn’t add to your burden.’ 

He shook his head then, freeing himself from her grasp. ‘I can’t tell you anything.’ He answered, his voice despondent.

‘Severus?’ she pleaded. 

He turned away slightly. ‘Even if I wanted too.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘He made sure of that.’

‘You took a vow.’ It was a statement not a question as she stepped with him not allowing him to retreat. ‘He forced you.’ She watched as he opened his mouth to speak, to either confirm or deny her claim, but no sound came out. ‘I’ll kill him.’ She spat, her frustration clear as the callousness and master manipulation Albus Dumbledore so often tried to hide finally came to light. 

‘I already did that.’ Severus inclined his head, a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips at her ire. ‘But I appreciate your gesture, no matter how late the offer is.’

‘I am sorry you have been all alone.’ She placed a hand on his shoulder once more. ‘But that ends now. You’ll never be alone again Severus. I vow this…’

‘I will not accept your vow Minerva.’ He interrupted, turning to face her. ‘Too many unnecessary vows have been made. And it has led to this moment.’ He shook his head. ‘I will trust your word and your actions. You do not need to vow.’

‘And you’ll confide in me? You’ll let me in?’ She held his gaze.

‘I’m starting to regret letting you in here tonight.’ He smirked. 

‘Severus.’ She chastised, slapping him once more, watching his face to ensure there was no misunderstanding her intent this time.

‘Information will flow as freely as it can.’ He conceded.

‘That is all I can ask for.’ She repeated his words from earlier. ‘And I will do everything I can to make your life easier.’

He rolled his eyes then. ‘I’m harboring a supposedly dead girl in my rooms, hidden in hopes that the war will end, the light will win and she can resume her life unscathed. A girl, who like all others, has been groomed to detest and fear my very presence. And I have to gain her trust and cooperation and keep her here for a yet to be determined period of time.’ He held up a hand silencing her protest, his lips pulling into a previously seen uncharacteristic wry smile. ‘I have a narky old Scotswoman declaring her undying support…’

‘You finish that sentence Severus Snape…’ she grinned then, matching him. ‘You’re right. There is nothing easy about that.’

‘Just another day.’ He shook his head. ‘Just another day.’

‘Not anymore.’ She nodded once, adamant. ‘However, you ever call me old again.’

He threw his head back and laughed at that. ‘It may be well worth the repercussions.’ He calmed then, his expression somber once more. ‘But enough stalling. We still have to heal Miss Granger.’

‘You’re right. Of course.’ Minerva stepped back towards the bed, her eyes on the injured girl once more. ‘And then we will heal you.’ She tapped her palm on his shoulder as she passed.

He chose not to respond to her words as he let his focus be drawn back to the girl on his bed, thinking how very out of place she looked, in his quarters, in his bed. Wishing he had been able to prevent this turn of events. He lifted a hand, palm up and waited as his wand flew through the air and landed seamlessly in his grip. He relaxed his wrist and let the diagnostic spell whisper from his lips as he turned the tip to point at the girl’s chest. 

Minerva watched his expression go from serious to concerned, his countenance darkening, his jaw clenching, his lips pressing further together with each pass of his wand. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s worse than I thought.’ He shook his head as he let out an exasperated breath. ‘I don’t know why I am surprised. She has been interrogated by Lucius, Bellatrix and if the gashes on her chest are any indication, Dolohov too. And that is just a few of the possibilities. I do not know how long she had been there before I was summoned.’

‘What does that mean?’ Minerva stepped closer to him, a hand coming to rest on his forearm as though simultaneously seeking and offering support.

‘I can’t heal all of this myself.’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘I can’t heal everything with magic. It will tire her and deplete me faster than it will do any good.’ He swallowed then. ‘I’m not even sure, until I search her memories for exactly what happened in the manor, that I will be able to even heal it all.’

‘Let me get Poppy.’ She took a step towards the hearth. She stopped as his hand caught her wrist.

‘I can’t let you do that.’

She swiveled to face him, her breath catching at the look of pure raw anguish that graced his features. ‘Severus please. If you need help. Let me get help.’

‘I doubt that Madam Pomfrey will extend me the same courtesy as you did.’ He tightened his grip on her wrist slightly as she made to step away. ‘Please. Just let me do what I can now.’

She smiled then. ‘You’ve told me many secrets tonight Severus. And now I’ll tell you mine.’ She shook her hand free and then reached it up to cup his cheek. ‘Poppy is my secret.’ She held his gaze, nodding as her words sunk in. ‘And I know she will listen to me.’ She patted her palm against his skin. ‘She will be as devastated as I that we have been so wrong about you.’ She waited for him to nod his acceptance of the plan before stepping back towards the hearth. With a tossed handful of powder, she opened the connection. She waited until the nurse’s head appeared in the flames.

Her sleepy eyes immediately snapped to attention as she took in Minerva’s concerned face. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, I am fine.’ Minerva shook her head. ‘I’m sorry to frighten you Leannan*, but we are in need of your assistance.’

‘We?’ Poppy’s eyes tried to look around where Minerva knelt in the hearth, trying to see to whom she was referring.

‘Severus and I.’ She held up a hand to stop the protest she sensed was about to leave Poppy’s lips. ‘I’ll…’ she glanced towards where Severus hovered just out of view. ‘We will explain when you step through.’ She stood then, making room for the other woman to enter.

Severus waved a hand, clearing the wards to allow Poppy admittance. He stood tall, crossing his arms over his chest, his face towards the floor, his very expression like that of a condemned man awaiting his sentence.

‘It won’t be all bad Severus.’ Minerva smiled as the floo roared to life, delivering the school’s matron to his chambers, as she watched him lift his eyes to hers at her jovial tone. ‘Just think, now you’ll have two narky old women…’

‘I am neither narky, nor old.’ Poppy assured them as she entered, her bag in one of her hands, her wand poised and ready in the other. ‘I am however rather interested in the turn of events that finds me summoned to the Headmasters quarters at this un-godly hour. And by his greatest opposition at that.’ She let her eyes linger on her lover for a moment before she turned her attention to the man in question. ‘Are you hurt?’ Her voice, though cold, was professional.

He shook his head. ‘I am not.’ He took a step towards her, gesturing towards the bed behind her as he did. ‘But she is. And I can’t heal her without your help.’ He heard the matron gasp as she discovered the injured girl on his bed.

‘You monster.’ Her tone hard, her words biting. ‘How could…’

Minerva reached a hand and wrapped it onto Poppy’s wrist, her hand guiding the other woman’s hand, her wand to point towards the floor. ‘Severus didn’t do this.’

But she refused to listen, her misplaced anger boiling over. She shook herself from her lover’s grip. ‘What have you done to Minerva? Why is she defending you?’

‘Poppy please.’ Minerva begged then, placing her body between the irate woman and the focus of her attention.

‘Let her yell Minerva.’ Severus stood stoic, his back to Poppy, his eyes locked onto where Hermione lay, watching her slow even breathing, the way the muscles pulled in her face as each breath strained a new injury. ‘It is nothing I am not used to. It’s alright.’

‘Nothing you’re not used to?’ Poppy’s head titled then her tirade stopped before it could truly begin. ‘What is he talking about? Minerva? What’s going on?’

‘Albus has played us all for fools.’ Minerva spoke quietly, her words full of conviction as she moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with the man she was now defending. ‘He let us believe Severus is to blame.’

‘He killed him.’ Poppy shook her head. ‘Don’t you remember?’ 

Minerva glanced sideways, caught Severus’ gaze and held it. ‘And there is an explanation for that.’ She saw his minute nod of agreement. ‘But right now, we need to put that all aside and help him save Hermione.’

She blinked slowly, letting the situation wash over her, restoring her clinical detachment, for the good of her patient. She shifted to stand at the end of the bed. ‘What do we know?’

Severus straightened and began to recite the findings of his diagnostic tests, his eyes directly on the patient as he avoided the querying eyes of the new-comer to his chambers. ‘She has a broken wrist, several broken ribs and a cracked right cheek bone. She has suffered a number of bouts of the cruciatus curse.’ He leant further forward and took hold of the towel covering her body. He drew it towards him slowly, revealing the girl’s arm. ‘Bellatrix has carved up her arm. There are gashes across her breasts and thighs. I can assume they go deeper, that there is not an area left untouched.’ He heard the soft intake of breath Minerva emit at his words. He watched the faint pulse of purple light visible at the edges of the wounds. ‘They were made with a cursed blade. I am going to have to remove the dark magic while you stabilize her.’ He nodded, his eyes finally finding Poppy’s. ‘She has lacerations on her back. I believe from a whip. But I’m not entirely sure. There is a small bite mark on the back of her thigh. I will coat with powdered silver and dittany. Just to be sure.’

‘Sure?’ It was Minerva that interrupted his delivery, his diagnosis and treatment plan.

‘I can’t be entirely certain Fenrir wasn’t involved.’ He let his distaste for the werewolf reflect in his eyes, his tone. ‘The silver will negate anything he may have left behind.’

‘Oh Severus.’ One of Minerva’s hands shot to her chest pushing as though she needed to hold her heart inside, her other grabbed tightly to his forearm for support. 

‘Just be thankful she is still unconscious.’ He kept his voice neutral, disconnected. ‘She would be in unimaginable, unbearable pain.’

‘And you did not do this to her.’ Poppy spoke directly to him, her words though inflammatory, her voice held no accusation.

He locked his eyes on hers. ‘I did not.’ He saw her nod. ‘But I intend to take the hurt away, before she is fully aware of it.’ He leant forward then and pushed the towel away from Hermione’s torso. His hands dropped to rest gently on her chest, his palms covering the worst of the gashes as he squeezed his eyes closed and began to chant softly.

Minerva tensed for a brief second as she watched him place his hands on Hermione’s breasts, her eyes catching Poppy’s over the top of his head. Her protests silenced as he began to sing, his voice soft, sure and hauntingly melodic. Poppy’s discreet shake of her head convinced her further that his hands on action was required. She watched then in fascination as the purple light seemed to seep from the girl’s body, his hands discoloring as it made its way up his forearms, his jaw clenching, his brow beading with sweat as the color creeped higher still.

Poppy stepped forward then, wand raised and began to chant, joining her voice to his as she sang the incantations to knit the knife wounds and the gashes closed now that the dark magic was receding.

Severus felt the full force of the dark magic entering his body; his breathing, his chest growing tight, his forearms throbbing as he controlled the retreat from the girls’ body, as he directed the flow towards his own magical core. He clenched his jaw in pain as he let one hand slide down to rest lightly under the towel, his hand now covering where he knew the rest of the curse damage had been concentrated. He began to shake as the steady stream of dark magic increased, the secondary site far more infected than her chest had been. He resisted the urge to lift his hands, to end his own torment, determined to see what he had started come to fruition.

Minerva watched as he started to tremble, his body now mostly engulfed in a purple glow, his face contorting with the effort and the agony as he absorbed the curse. She made to take a step towards him, to lay a hand on him as he let out a pained groan. ‘Severus?’

‘Don’t.’ He managed to force out between his teeth before he resumed his chanting.

‘He’s killing himself.’ Minerva caught Poppy’s eye. ‘He can’t die.’

‘He is doing what only he can.’ Poppy spoke softly, her eyes back on her job, her wand movements precise as she directed healing spells to the necessary areas on Hermione’s body.

‘I don’t understand.’ Minerva shook her hand. ‘We need him.’

‘We do.’ Poppy acknowledged. ‘And right now, this is what we need him for.’

Minerva dropped into the chair beside the bed. ‘It is everyone. Isn’t it.’ She muttered quietly. ‘Everyone always expects sacrifices from him.’ She glanced up at where the last of the purple was syphoning into Severus. ‘But no one ever reciprocates. Happy to let him suffer.’ She shook her head. ‘But unwilling to see the consequences.’

‘It’s what he deserves.’ Poppy straightened and wiped her hands across the front of her shirt.

‘Is it though?’ Minerva let her eyes search his pained, unguarded face.

‘No.’ Poppy shook her head then. ‘But it is what he has had. Since he was a child.’

Her eyes snapped to Poppy’s. ‘You never said.’

‘It wasn’t my place to say.’ Poppy shook her head. ‘I was ordered to treat and never to discuss. Even his medical records were not mine to keep.’ She let her head drop in shame. ‘I had always wondered, suspected there was more.’ She brought her eyes back to Minerva’s. ‘Seeing you here now. Him like this.’ She gestured to where Severus was taking a stumbling step backwards towards the bathroom, his departure swiftly followed by the sounds of retching. ‘It makes me wish I had questioned more.’ She turned then, replacing the dislodged towel as she tried to detach herself from the moment once more. ‘I could have done more for him. If only I had followed my instincts. Delved deeper. He was just a child when it started.’

‘You’re not the only one guilty of that.’ Minerva stood and approached where Poppy was arranging the sheets about the girl. She caught her hand, stopping her fiddling. ‘But it ends now.’

‘It does.’ Poppy nodded once in agreement as Severus slowly reentered the room, a towel to his mouth, his skin pasty white and clammy. 

‘Are you alright Severus?’ Minerva addressed him as he let his body collapse to sit on the edge of the bed, her hand still in Poppy’s.

‘I will be.’ He nodded once, his eyes fatigued, his gratitude at their concern so very clearly written on his face.

‘I’m sorry it has taken this for us to question the status quo.’ Poppy spoke then, her eyes sincere as she moved to place a hand on his forehead. She slapped gently at his hand as he tried to brush her away.

‘As I told Minerva, you weren’t supposed to question. You were just supposed to do. As I was.’ He took a long deep breath, ignoring the way her fingers trailed to rest against the pulse point on his throat. ‘You’re here now and Miss Granger is going to live.’ He exhaled, his body slumping slightly. ‘And that’s all that matters.’

‘It’s not all Severus.’ Minerva stepped up beside Poppy and placed her hands on his cheeks, angling his eyes to hers. ‘You’re important too.’ She leant forward and pressed a kiss to his captive forehead, grinning at the slight blush that rose on his cheeks as she pulled away. ‘And we are going to heal you.’

He looked up at her before letting his eyes drift towards Poppy. He let a small smile pull at his lips before his countenance grew serious. ‘You may wish to heal me Minerva.’ He locked his unwavering gaze on hers. ‘But in public.’ He paused, to give her time to process his words. ‘You are going to have to hate me. Nothing that happens in here can change that.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Leannan* = sweetheart


	6. Chapter 6

‘As I told Minerva, you weren’t supposed to question. You were just supposed to do. As I was.’ He took a long deep breath, ignoring the way her fingers trailed to rest against his pulse point. ‘You’re here now and Miss Granger is going to live.’ He exhaled, his body slumping slightly. ‘And that’s all that is important.’  
‘It’s not all Severus.’ Minerva stepped up beside Poppy and placed her hands on his cheeks, angling his eyes to hers. ‘You’re important too.’ She leant forward and pressed a kiss to his captive forehead, grinning at the slight blush that rose on his cheeks as she pulled away. ‘And we are going to heal you.’  
He looked up at her before letting his eyes drift towards Poppy. He let a small smile pull at his lips before his countenance grew serious. ‘You may wish to heal me Minerva.’ He locked his unwavering gaze on hers. ‘But in public.’ He paused, to give her time to process his words. ‘You are going to have to hate me. Nothing that happens in here can change that.’

Chapter 6

‘So that’s it then?’ Minerva shook her head gently, still holding his face captive, feeling its clamminess for herself. ‘You’ll continue to suffer alone, in silence.’

Severus pulled himself from her grip and gestured vaguely behind him, waving a hand in the general direction of the space Hermione was occupying in his bed. ‘I’m hardly alone now.’ His tone dry, his entire demeanor one of sheer exhaustion. He swallowed then as he let his hand fall to rest, palm up, on the bed beside him.

‘What does happen now?’ Poppy shifted to sit in the armchair beside the bed, her arms placed on the armrests, her eyes closing as she took a moment.

‘What do you mean?’ Severus turned slightly to face her, waiting for her to open her eyes once more.

‘With us? With you?’ She made a vague attempt to gesture towards the unconscious girl in the bed behind him. ‘With her?’

Minerva swiveled then to sit beside him, her hand coming to rest on his knee, her eyes locked onto Poppy’s. ‘Poppy is right Severus. What happens now?’

He directed his eyes at the wall opposite, his expression neutral, his tone equally so. ‘In public you will oppose me at every opportunity you can.’

‘And in private,’ Minerva turned to face him. ‘In private, we will be your champions.’ She watched his reached as her words, her declaration registered. In his fatigue he let a small smile tug at his lips as he placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently.

‘As for Miss Granger,’ he glanced at Poppy. ‘How did you go stabilizing her.’ He let his eyes dart towards the bathroom door. ‘I had to…I was unable to stay for the final part.’ He brought his eyes back to hers. ‘Of her healing.’

Poppy nodded in recognition of his words, his reason for leaving as abruptly as he had. ‘I have managed to seal all visible wounds Severus. I have knit her bones together as best I can. I didn’t want to add the bone replenishing potion too soon however.’ She locked her eyes on his. ‘There was too much magic. An overload would have exhausted her and she would have been completely unable to heal. There are a few other things we need to examine and treat. Tomorrow. When we are all less tired. She will need the potion when she wakes to set her wrist properly.’ She watched him nod, acknowledging his responsibility. ‘Will you be seeing to that?’

‘Yes.’ He paused for a second to gather his thoughts together on how to outline his plan. ‘Hermione will have to stay here.’ He let his eyes drift back to the other side of the room as he avoided making eye contact with either of the two women. ‘With me.’ He paused again then, expecting an objection, a suggestion for a better option. When none were offered he continued. ‘My rooms are the most secure in the school. No one can enter or exit without my expressed permission allowing them access to the wards. They do not even appear correctly on Mr Potter’s map.’

Minerva’s hand flew to her chest. ‘You know about that?’

‘Indeed.’ Severus nod his head once in acknowledgement. ‘I have always known. It was how his father and his awful friends managed to always get the jump on me.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Minerva’s brow furrowed.

‘That is a story for another day.’ Severus offered.

‘I will hold you to that Severus.’ Minerva held his gaze.

‘As will I.’ Poppy reiterated, knowing full well that she had been the one to treat every single injury he had suffered as a student, suspecting now that there was more to the story than she had been privy to.

He nodded in agreement before letting his eyes fall to his lap. ‘As I said, while my quarters are the most secure, unfortunately I cannot expand them to offer her privacy without the changes and additions being registered in the official school plans housed at the Ministry. The magic ingrained in the castle wards only prevents their true detail appearing on unofficial objects and documentation.’ He took a breath, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands backwards away from his face as he looked back up at Minerva. ‘After all this, I cannot take the risk that one of the new school governors,’ he spat the title making his distaste for Voldemort’s new regime known, ‘may take it upon themselves to check the plans in search of a way to infiltrate the school and notice a discrepancy.’

‘There could be more Death Eaters in the school?’ Minerva straightened, her hand tightening on his knee. ‘Severus, you cannot allow that.’

‘I am afraid, in order to do what has been asked of me,’ he shrugged then. ‘My hands must appear to be tied.’

‘Surely not.’ Minerva stood abruptly. ‘I cannot accept that.’

‘And you shouldn’t’ He spoke quietly. ‘We all have to do what we can,’ he paused again letting his unspoken words, the inclusion of himself in the statement sink in, ‘where we can.’

‘And what are you doing exactly?’ Poppy lifted her eyes to his, her expression as full of accusation as her tone, her words.

‘I do what I can.’ He kept his answer vague. ‘To intervene.’ 

‘And to avoid being held accountable.’ Poppy snapped. ‘What kind of an answer was that?’

‘The kind that only he can give.’ Minerva smirked then. ‘I heard a rumor the other day, you know.’ She sat back down beside him, her hand finding his knee once more. ‘I dismissed it initially, but now, I wonder.’

‘Curiosity killed the cat Minerva.’ Severus quirked a brow at her, daring her to continue.

She slapped his knee gently in admonishment. ‘You don’t scare me.’ She smiled then. ‘Not anymore. Not after I watched you cradle that girl so carefully against your chest.’ She swiveled to face him her hand finding his cheek, her eyes seeking his. ‘Not after you did everything you could to preserve her dignity.’ She held his gaze. ‘Not when I heard that the great bat of dungeons, the nastiest, most hated Headmaster in the whole history of Hogwarts issued a detention to my most vocal students with Hagrid.’ She saw the soft blush color his cheeks as he dropped his eyes from hers.

‘I could not stand by and let those disgusting excuses for wizards,’ he ran a hand over his face, covering his eyes for a second before letting it fall uselessly onto the bed beside him, ‘for humans injure students in my school. I don’t care what my directive is.’

‘But sending them to Hagrid?’ Minerva resisted the urge to pull him into a hug, only knowing how fatigued he was, watching the way he barely held his seated position, his shoulders slumped, his hands idle by his sides stopped her.

‘I figured if your brash Gryffindor’s didn’t learn their lesson.’ He let his voice grow quieter. ‘To not get caught by the Carrows while trying to openly defy the new order of things,’ he lifted his eyes back to hers, a small smile on his lips once more. ‘Then Hagrid’s rock cakes would kill them.’

She gave into her impulse then and wrapped a gentle arm about his shoulders, pulling him bodily to her. ‘How did I never see this side of you? How did I never suspect?’

‘I am very good at what I do.’ Severus’ countenance grew serious then. ‘I have had to be. To stay in the Dark Lord’s good graces while fulfilling my promise to the light.’

‘You play both sides.’ Poppy stated, her expression growing more concerned by the second as she watched Severus pale even further. ‘But where does your loyalty lie Severus?’

He lifted his eyes to the nurse’s. ‘I cannot sit back and abide by the things He encourages.’ He spat. ‘I cannot condone that. I will not.’

‘You would risk your life for people who are none the wiser.’ Poppy shook her head, still unable to comprehend exactly what was going on, what she was now privy too. ‘For people who don’t trust you?’

‘Dumbledore always told me that good would prevail. Truth would eventually find its way into knowing.’ He smiled softly then, letting his head fall forward. ‘I always believed that he was somewhat led by blind faith for his own agenda. After everything I have been through, after everything that has happened. I can only follow my heart. I can only work to ensure I uphold my principles. That I don’t lose myself.’ He looked up again, glancing between the two women. ‘And I can hope that one day the truth will be cast into light.’ His voice trailed off, his desire for love, acceptance and trust while unsaid, unmistakably clear.

‘I am certain of it.’ Minerva spoke softly, her eyes following Poppy’s to take in his now slouched form, his elbows on his knees appearing to be the only thing holding him up. ‘Severus, you need to rest now.’ She turned to place her hands on his biceps, standing as she attempted to angle him backwards onto the bed.

He stiffened under her ministrations, resisting her attempt to make him more comfortable. ‘I cannot yet.’ He shook his head, the action making him wince the pounding in his head increasing with each small movement.

‘You have to.’ Poppy stood then, moving to assist Minerva.

‘Not until I know she is comfortable.’ He stood, using his height to make them step backwards. ‘I have to know she is going to be alright.’ He turned then, letting his eyes drop to focus on the girl. ‘Sage?’

With a soft pop, the elf appeared by his side. ‘How is I be helping?’

‘I would very much like you to go to Gryffindor tower.’ He directed his gaze to her. ‘Do not be seen.’

‘Of course.’

‘Sage,’ he placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘It is most important. I need you to collect all of Miss Granger’s belongings and bring them here.’ He turned back to face Poppy and Minerva. ‘I need you to leave duplicates in her chamber however.’

With a small nod Sage shimmered out of existence, leaving the three of them standing in silence.

‘Why have that elf collect her things? Why leave a duplicate?’ Minerva tilted her head as she spoke her question.

‘This situation is less than ideal.’ Severus sat back down on the bed, his hand coming to rest against his forehead, his palm pressing against his skin. ‘But I need to know I have done everything I can.’ He closed his eyes, swallowing slowly. ‘Allowing her to have her own belongings here is the least I can do.’ He glanced back up them. ‘And to maintain the charade, you need to be able to officially pack up her life.’ He closed his eyes once more. ‘As a kind of closure.’

‘Is there nothing you haven’t thought about? Planned for?’ Minerva marveled at the man before her, watching him now struggle to keep his eyes open, the absorption of the cursed dark magic taking its toll.

He smirked then, his lips pulling into a tight smile, the pain and his discomfort clear in his dark eyes. ‘I didn’t factor in where I was going to rest, now that my bed is currently occupied.’ He gestured towards where Hermione lay in the center of the large bed, her body covered in the light sheet, the fire burning in the hearth eliminating the need for a heavier blanket.

‘She won’t mind Severus.’ Minerva placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to lie back once more. ‘You saved her.’

Unable to fight any more, unwilling to resist the pull of the mattress, the need to sleep he lay back, keeping his body as close to the opposite edge of the bed as he could, careful not to bump or jostle the injured girl. ‘Oh she will very much mind. One can only hope that she remains unconscious for the duration of the night.’ He closed his eyes then, keeping his face turned to the ceiling, his hands folding over each other as they rest on his chest. ‘I will see you in the great Hall. For breakfast.’ He effectively dismissed the two women from his quarters. He kept his face carefully blank as he heard them move quietly towards the hearth, preparing to depart. ‘And let the games begin. Let’s give them their bread and circuses.’ He muttered softly, his words disappearing under the rush of the floo.


	7. Chapter 7

‘Is there nothing you haven’t thought about? Planned for?’ Minerva marveled at the man before her, watching him now struggle to keep his eyes open, the absorption of the cursed dark magic taking its toll.

He smirked then, his lips pulling into a tight smile, the pain and his discomfort clear in his dark eyes. ‘I didn’t factor in where I was going to rest, now that my bed is currently occupied.’ He gestured towards where Hermione lay in the center of the large bed, her body covered in the light sheet, the fire burning in the hearth eliminating the need for a heavier blanket.

‘She won’t mind Severus.’ Minerva placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to lie back once more. ‘You saved her.’

Unable to fight any more, unwilling to resist the pull of the mattress, the need to sleep he lay back, keeping his body as close to the opposite edge of the bed as he could, careful not to bump or jostle the injured girl. ‘Oh she will very much mind. One can only hope that she remains unconscious for the duration of the night.’ He closed his eyes then, keeping his face turned to the ceiling, his hands folding over each other as they rest on his chest. ‘I will see you in the great Hall. For breakfast.’ He effectively dismissed the two women from his quarters. He kept his face carefully blank as he heard them move quietly towards the hearth, preparing to depart. ‘And let the games begin. Let’s give them their bread and circuses.’ He muttered softly, his words disappearing under the rush of the floo.

Chapter 7

Hermione woke slowly, the awareness of a dull lingering pain dragging her to consciousness. She blinked a few times, trying to let her eyes adjust to the semi-darkness of the room where she now found herself, the candles in the sconces darkened, the fire in the hearth offering the only light. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut once more as she became aware of a solid warm presence beside her. The slow, even breathing gaining her attention. She held her breath and kept as still as possible, despite the pain now thudding steadily through her body, the throb of her wrist, the heavy pressure on her chest, the pain on her cheek. She swallowed slowly, trying to calm her panic as the little elf’s words came back to her mind. ‘Master said stay.’ She turned her head slowly, carefully to the side to see just who this master was. Her panicked heart increased its staccato in her chest as she found herself face to face with Headmaster Snape, the man who had so recently tortured and cajoled her, belittled her, provoking her to fight while attempting to manhandle her into submission. She felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him lying there, sleeping so calmly beside her, as though this was nothing unusual; his hands folded over his chest, his fingers interlaced, his face relaxed, his breathing quiet and slow. She rolled carefully to her side, turning completely away from him before waiting, poised on the edge of the bed to see if he had noticed her movement. When no sound emitted from the man now behind her she rolled further, letting her weight propel her body from the bed to land softly crouched on the floor. It was then that she noticed she was naked. A small sound of surprise slipped from her before she could silence it. She crouched lower, hoping above all hope that he would not notice it. She counted to ten, slowing her breath as she listened for noise, waited for him to respond, to attack her and restrain her once more. She heard nothing but his deep, even respiration. 

She stood, easing her body upright, her hand resting on the edge of the bed steadying her. She let her eyes flit from the still sleeping figure on the bed to the periphery of the room, searching for anything she could wear, for something to aide her escape. Finding nothing obviously she turned slowly, stepping away from the bed and letting her eyes travel the walls until she located another open door, the flickering fire reflecting from glass inside indicating that she had found his bathroom. It was at that moment, now that the immediate danger of her discovery had passed, now that her body was upright, defying the discomfort and gravity, now that she had been made aware of the option that she realized she was in desperate need to make use of the facilities held within. She took a few shaky steps towards the open door, her legs protesting every step. She gritted her teeth, pressing forwards, the progress slow as her body grew rapidly fatigued. She felt her ankle give out under her, her legs collapsing, her weight falling forward. She gasped as her injured wrist slammed into the floor, her ill-advised attempt to cushion her fall only making everything worse. Tears sprang to her eyes as the pain radiated from her wrist, up her arm and set her whole body aflame with agony. She bit hard onto her lip to stifle the yelp that threatened, her shock and pain stifled but for the small gasp she had been unable to control. She sat curled into herself, clutching her wrist, trying to breathe through the nausea that accompanied. She heard the bed creak softly as the occupant, her captor shifted, the sound indicting he was now heading in her direction and that he was very much awake. She felt her chest constrict as her panic welled, her body unable to move, the pain immobilizing her despite her very real need to flee.

 

It was the soft gasp that breached his senses, rousing Severus to consciousness once more. He let his hand slide carefully across the bed, hoping to find her still stationary, lying safe in the comfort of his bed as she healed. His hand found nothing but empty space. He rolled, forcing his fatigued body to move, his feet finding the floor as he stood upright. He propelled himself around the edge of the bed, in the direction of the noise as fast as he could, moving quickly in hopes of preventing any further injury she had unknowingly inflicted on herself. His step faltered as her eyes lifted to his from where she sat, curled in on herself. His heart caught in his throat, his body halting to a sudden stop just inches from her as her terror penetrated his senses, her wide eyes overflowing with tears as she began to sob. He dropped to a crouch, bringing his body to her level, his hands reaching for her. He watched her attempt to withdraw from him, her feet pushing against the stone floor, her hand still supporting her wrist, her face contorting in pain, her breaths increasing as she reached hysteria. He dropped to his knees before her, his hands finding their way around her, his palms resting against her ribs as he brought her retreat to a stop. ‘Miss Granger.’ He spoke quietly, his voice scratchy from sleep, deeper and not as smooth as his normal tenor.

 

She heard her name, felt his breath touch her face as she tried desperately to escape his grasp. She released her injured wrist as she used her still healthy arm to hit at him, landing blow after blow onto his chest and shoulders. Her aim, her power faltering after a few moments, her hand falling into her lap as she gave up all pretense of resisting. ‘Please.’ She managed to stutter out around her gasping breaths, her sobs.

 

‘Miss Granger.’ He held her steady, his grip on her ribs never tightening or increasing pressure as he let her hit him, knowing she should tire quickly. ‘Hermione,’ he changed his tactic. ‘Please.’ He leant closer to her trying to get her to look at him without having to shift her hands. ‘Let me help you.’

 

‘Just let me go.’ She tried once more to push against his hands, to free herself.

 

‘I can’t.’ He felt her shudder under his grasp, her breathing growing erratic once more. ‘Please, Hermione. I’m not trying to hurt you.’ He tried once more to appeal to her inherent intelligence. He kept his voice quiet, low, even as he sought to calm as he tried to offer reassurance, hoping that she would listen to his words, knowing that his actions were causing her distress, yet being unable to rectify them. ‘Your ribs were broken. I need to you to slow your breathing Hermione.’ He used his grip to hold her injured ribs, to try and lessen the force her rapid respiration was exerting on them. He slid his body closer then, wrapping her into his larger frame, surrounding her on all sides as he enveloped her against his chest, his hands turning her body to press her side against him, his hands never once leaving her ribs, his thumbs stroking carefully against her skin. He lowered his head against hers, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he began to mutter reassurances, whether for himself or the girl in his arms he wasn’t completely sure. ‘You’re ok. I’ve got you. You’re safe. No one can hurt you. I’ve got you. Breathe little one. I’ve got you.’

 

As his softly spoken words slowly penetrated the haze of fear that clouded her mind Hermione found herself beginning to relax against him, her body simply too tired to hold herself up any more. ‘I’m ok now.’ She whispered, her words designed to reassure her brain that she was indeed safe. ‘I’m ok.’

 

He felt her body calming, the trembling subsiding as she leant more heavily against him. He lifted his head to look completely at her, his placating mantra forgotten as he let his eyes roam quickly over her, searching for any new injuries. Satisfied there was nothing new to find he sat back slightly and using one hand he dragged his shirt over his head. He saw her eyes widen once more, her attention flicking from his face to his now bared chest and back again. He felt her start to pull away from his grip once more. He shook his head slightly, wincing as his headache returned in full force now that the adrenalin of the shock awakening had worn off. Moving slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, he carefully draped the shirt around her small frame, his hands sliding down the edges to bring the two halves together. ‘I’m sorry it’s not clean.’ He spoke quietly as he kept his eyes on hers, his fingers making short work of the buttons as he fastened his shirt over her.

 

‘Pro…Professor?’ Hermione shifted her hands to run over the fabric now secured about her, her injured hand coming to rest against her abdomen, her good hand pressing the still warm shirt to her, smoothing out the wrinkles, the action pointless, yet comforting as she sat, wrapped in his arms and now his shirt on the floor of his chambers.

 

‘It would not do to have you catch cold.’ His face kind as he looked down at her. ‘You have already suffered enough.’ He reached slowly for her injured hand then, moving his own arm slowly until his own fingers brushed against hers, catching them softly in his grip. He felt her tense as though preparing to rip her arm from him. ‘Please don’t pull away.’ He stated quietly. He saw her eyes fill with tears. He watched her drop her head back on her shoulders and direct her eyes to the ceiling, away from his.

 

She brought her free hand, the one not in his grip up and rubbed her palm across her eyes. ‘Please don’t touch me anymore.’ Her voice was merely above a whisper.

 

‘I just want to see you’re ok.’ He kept hold of her arm and gently turned her wrist about. ‘Madame Promfrey hadn’t finished healing you. You had one more potion to take before the bone was completely set. I just want to make sure you haven’t fractured it again.’

 

She brought her eyes back to his, hers imploring him to let go. ‘Why do you care?’ She shook her head. ‘What am I to you now? A game?’

 

His gaze dropped from hers but not before she saw the dejected look fill his eyes. ‘No little one. I am not playing with you.’ He stood, shifting away from her, giving her room to breathe for a moment before turning back to face her. ‘But I am going to take care of you.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Whether you want me to or not.’ He stooped then, sliding a hand under her knees, and an arm around behind her shoulders. In one smooth fluid movement he lifted her, cradling her against his chest, ignoring the pain in his head, watching her eyes for any signs of distress. ‘Now tell me, where were you headed when you fell?’ He asked, suspecting that he knew all too well just what her plans had been. He watched her eyes drop to the floor, her head turning away from him as a blush colored her cheeks. ‘You can tell me. I promise I won’t get angry. I will understand.’

 

She swallowed, collecting her thoughts. ‘I was going to try to escape.’ She dragged her teeth over her lower lip, wincing as they came into contact with one of her various healing cuts. ‘But then I needed to use the bathroom.’ Her voice trailed off with her embarrassment.

 

He nodded once before carrying her into the small ensuite and setting her down carefully beside the toilet. He held her for a moment as she swayed, her good hand reaching out and grasping the small basin beside them, his hands lingering only long enough to ensure she was stable on her feet. ‘I will be just outside. Please, call me when you’re ready. Do not try to move yourself. Let me help you.’ He took a step backwards, watching her, waiting for her to acknowledge his request before turning and striding from the room. With a wave of his hand as he crossed the threshold, the bathroom door softly closed behind him.

 

Once back in his bed chambers he dropped to sit on his bed, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He felt his eyes well with tears. His shoulders shuddered with the effort of holding them back, his emotions threatening to get the better of him as he contemplated what his life was now reduced to, how he would be hated and judged not only in the school, the magical world as a whole but now also in the confines of his own private chambers. There would be no respite from it. Not while ever the girl was terrified of him. And fear him she did. It was so adamantly clear in her wide scared eyes, the flinch of her body, the way she actively tried to avoid his eyes at every chance she could. He took a few deep quick stabilizing breaths before running his hand through his hair as he lifted his head. It was too early to tell just how long her terror would last. She had been awake and in his presence for not even half an hour. He shook his head, chastising himself. It will take time, Severus, he thought, wondering if he had the strength to wait her out, hoping that once she had sat with Minerva her fears would be allayed somewhat. Still seated with his hands on his knees, his eyes towards the closed bathroom door he called out softly to his elf. ‘Sage?’

 

A second later she popped in front of him. ‘What is you be needing Master?’

 

‘How many times do I have to tell you Sage, to call me Severus. I am no one’s master.’ He shook his head, his eyes darkened, his brow creased.

 

‘I is sorry.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Severus.’

 

He glanced down to where the little elf was wringing her hands in font of herself. ‘And I am sorry to summon you again. You’ve done so much already.’

 

‘I is happy to help.’ She locked her large eyes on his. ‘For you. And for Little Miss.’

 

‘Little Miss.’ He shook his head again, correcting himself. ‘Hermione.’ He nodded then as the elf took note. ‘She will be staying here. I know you have already organized her things.’ He gestured vaguely towards the small chest resting along the far wall. ‘I would like you to make sure my kitchen is always fully stocked.’ He watched her nod. ‘For two.’   
He emphasized. ‘And Sage, she is my secret.’

 

‘I is understanding.’ Sage nodded, her face serious. ‘I is one taking her from bad place. I is bringing her here.’

 

‘And I am no doubt certain that she will be very grateful.’ He tried to assure her.

 

‘Little Miss is scared of Severus.’ Sage wiped at an eye then, flicking a tear. ‘And of Sage.’

 

‘When she is no longer scared.’ He conceded.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hermione sat, tensed trying to listen through the now closed doors, hoping to hear evidence of where he had gone and to hopefully get warning of when he was coming back to invade her privacy once more. She heard the bed creak softly and she wondered if her had merely sat down, or if he had resigned himself to the fact that she was going to draw out her solitude and as such he had gone back to bed. She took a deep breath then, calming her body, knowing for now that she was safe and alone to take care of her needs, take inventory of her aching body, to take stock of her situation and to formulate an escape plan. She was currently stuck in Headmaster Snape’s private quarters, hiding out in his personal bathroom. She let her eyes roam the room, assessing the dark, almost black marble tiled walls, the opulent sunken tub, the varying products she saw on the vanity counter and the shelf in the shower stall, deciding that under different circumstances she would have considered the room luxurious and even desired to spend more time enjoying its facilities. As it was, she was desperate to retreat as far from the rooms, from their owner as quickly as possible.

She was finishing up, deciding her next move when his voice wafted through the door, muffled but still clear. She felt her brow furrow as his words,‘I am no one’s master’ caught her attention. Confusion ran supreme as she contemplated what she had heard and experienced. For all intents and purposes she was his prisoner, to be used as he saw fit. Yet, if she truly thought about it he had shown her nothing but kindness, concern and respect. He had clearly healed her wounds, covered her body and tried to make her comfortable. He had been quietly spoken, reserved and careful in his attentions towards her. He had been so very gentle as he had lifted her, when he had examined her wrist. She had not failed to notice that he had kept his eyes on hers as he spoke to her, comforted her, that he kept his attention to her injured wrist and didn’t leer at her naked form, despite the opportunity he had had to do so. He had even seemed embarrassed and apologetic as he had offered her the shirt off of his back to cover her and restore her modesty. He had even turned his back on her and left her to her own devices, knowing full well that she was capable of rebelling, of trying to escape, injured as she was, he knew if she truly wanted to resist, she would be a formidable enemy. So why, she thought, was she delaying her attack and escape plan. Why was she still sitting in his bathroom, listening as he conversed about her welfare, with an elf? A colleague? She wasn’t sure. She leant forward and controlled her breath, her now chattering teeth, hoping to hear more of whatever was happening on the other side of the door.

 

She heard him apologize to his guest, for his summoning. A house elf, she surmised then. But then, why was Snape, Professor Snape she corrected herself, why was Professor Snape apologizing to an elf? For disturbing it and asking it to perform something more for him no less. She shook her head, leaning further forward, wrapping her arms about her body as she tried to preserve warmth. She strained to hear his response, trying to reconcile what she was hearing with the man who only hours ago had tormented her, demanded she fight him, only to force his will upon her as he stretched her body out under his. She heard the little elf’s anguish as it declared that it knew she was scared of Severus and of Sage. What kind of elf can call the Death Eater Headmaster by his first name? she wondered.

She heard the bed creak followed by soft footfalls, growing louder as he came towards the bathroom door one more. There was a very soft knock, which had her catching her breath and leaning backwards, as far from the door as she could. Then there was nothing but silence. She waited, barely breathing, to see what he would do next. Her body shivered, her teeth chattering, as the cold seeped into her despite his shirt wrapped and fastened securely about her. A minute later the knock was repeated, slightly louder than before.

His voice, quiet, followed the knock, but the door remained tightly closed. ‘Miss Granger?

She heard him cough softly, trying to clear his voice, but still she refused to answer.

‘Hermione.’ His voice, a little louder than before, but no less tentative reached her. ‘Are you alright? Are you needing assistance?’

She could hear the concern, the insecurity in his soft tenor. ‘I’m fine.’ She heard her own voice catch, her fatigue, her injuries, the cold finally beginning to take its toll on her body yet her mind unwilling to ask for help, to give him permission to enter the room.

‘I’m not sure I entirely believe you, Miss Granger.’ The rebuke only just evident in his tone. ‘I can hear you shivering from here. I am going to come in now.’

‘Please.’ Hermione shook her head as the door opened so very slowly. ‘I just need…’ Her words caught as he stood fully visible in the open doorway now.  
‘You need to be warm.’ He chastised softly. ‘You need to be in bed.’ His head inclined. ‘Recovering.’ He took a small step inside the door. ‘Please allow me to assist you.’

‘I can’t…’ She shook her head again, her hand lifting as though she could stop him with the simplest of gestures. ‘I don’t…’ She felt the tears well. ‘It’s too much. I can’t…’ her voice choked off with a sob as her resolve broke.

He was crouched in front of her in a second, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. ‘I know Little One. I know.’ He locked his gaze on hers, ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes, running down her cheeks. ‘I know it’s awful and scary,’ he shook his head in reprove of his grouse understatement, ‘and horrifying. But,’ he let his eyes fall to the floor for a moment as he schooled his features. ‘I will not hurt you.’ He brought his dark gaze back to hers. ‘I will tell you everything.’ He nodded. ‘Tomorrow.’ He lifted a hand to silence the protest he could see she was preparing to make. ‘Now is not the time. You are cold and hurting and your body is going into shock. I cannot spare you more pain, if you do not allow me to rectify this immediately.’ He stood then, and made to lift her into his arms, pausing only to lock his gaze soundly on hers. ‘I understand you do not trust me.’ He slid his hands under her knees and behind her shoulders. ‘But right now, I am the only option you have.’ He lifted her carefully into his arms and cradled her to his chest. He could feel her shuddering against him as she both shivered; her body temperature continuing to drop, as she fought to stave off the sobs threatening to take over her entire body.

‘Why?’ she stuttered through her chattering teeth as he carried her and gently placed her back on the bed.

‘Why? Miss Granger?’ He smiled softly down at her, his hands finding the sheet and pulling it up over her legs, his body bent forwards, his face so very close to hers. ‘Because contrary to popular belief, I am not an all-compassing evil.’ He straightened then, taking a step backwards. ‘And some things are worth fighting for.’

‘You fought for me?’ She stayed sitting upright, her eyes searching his face for any sign of emotion, for an undercurrent of his true meaning.

‘Indeed.’ He nodded once.

‘To own me.’ She heard her voice, so very small as she finally spoke her fears. She saw the shock register on his face, the hurt, as her words sunk in.

‘To protect you.’ He all but whispered. ‘I could not stand idly by.’ He turned his back on her then. ‘I did what I could. I’m still trying to.’ He paced across the floor to stand, staring down into the fire. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t…’

His voice trailed off, leaving her to wonder what he was apologizing for. Wondering why he would be apologizing. Contemplating the truth behind his declaration of not being evil. Speculating on just what it was that he, of all people couldn’t do. ‘Sir?’ She spoke after a moment, her word directed to his back. She could see the muscles tensing as he held himself stationary. She could see the firelight flickering across his face, his profile showing his tension, his inattention to her. ‘Sir,’ she repeated, ‘what couldn’t you?’

He spun on her then, his face unguarded, his expression heavy with the gravity of the situation, the weight of his role in the world, in the war. His eyes sad, burdened. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t find a different way to get you out of there. I’m sorry I didn’t get there earlier.’ His words sped up as his control slipped. ‘I’m sorry I can’t let you go free, even now. I’m sorry that for now there are things that need to be left unsaid. I’m sorry that I know you’re in pain, in shock and that unless you trust me, there is nothing I can do to alleviate it.’ He ran a hand over his head, pushing his hair backwards away from his face before letting his face fall forward towards the floor, his gaze finding the stones, his hair shielding is expression of agony from her. ‘I’m so very sorry that you’re going to have to spend your time here with me, someone you so clearly despise instead of with your friends. I am sorry that I’m going to have to go and publically celebrate your apparent death, all the while knowing you’re here, safe and that I can’t tell anyone else about it.’ His shoulders shook with the effort it was taking for him attempt to reign in and gain control once more of his emotions. ‘I’m sorry that because of this I am going to be even more hated than I was before.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to suffer in silence.’ He lifted his head to lock his tortured gaze on hers. ‘I am just sorry Hermione. For it all.’

She could hear the dejection in his voice, the trauma, the sorrow behind his words, the tears in his eyes doing more to unsettle her as she watched him struggle. She was not the only one in pain, she decided, watching him as he took deep breaths, as he turned his back on her. ‘Sir?’ She tried quietly. She waited for a response.

After a moment he turned back to face her, his eyes finding hers before his head turned ever so slightly to allow him to glance passed her. ‘Hmmm?’ he raised a brow, still refusing to meet her eye.

‘I’m not sure that I trust you.’ She heard herself say. ‘But I can try and make it not so difficult on you.’ She watched his lips twitch, pulling tight for a second before he managed to school his features once more. ‘I won’t fight you.’ She saw him nod. ‘I’ll let you do what you feel you need to. You have don’t nothing since I’ve been here to earn my distrust.’ She saw his eyes squeeze tightly shut.

‘But I’ve done nothing to earn your trust either.’ His voice so unusually small for force he was normally to be reckoned with.

‘I’m sorry…’she started softly, unsure exactly what it was that was compelling her to apologize.

He interrupted her then, his eyes catching hers and holding her gaze. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about Hermione. Nothing.’


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Hermione blinked, breaking eye contact with him. ‘I don’t understand.’ She shook her head, her confusion evident in her expression, in the way she picked at a thread in the soft sheet he had pulled up over her.

 

‘Of course you don’t.’ He smiled sadly at her then. ‘I never expected you to.’ He shifted to sit on the chair beside the bed, his exhaustion catching up, but knowing his time for rest was well and truly over another day was beginning and very soon he would be required to make an appearance in the Great Hall. He rested his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as he continued. ‘Not yet anyway.’ He nodded slightly, knowing she was watching his every move. ‘But you will. Soon.’ He sat upright then. ‘When I have done what I have to do. In the Great Hall.’ He turned his face towards her. ‘And when you have rested. I will tell you everything you need to know.’ He smiled, the expression sincere, softening his features as he looked at her. ‘I will even answer every single bloody question you have.’

 

She was thrown by his tone, teasing as it was and the way the years, the sternness had melted off of his face with a simple honest smile. ‘I really can’t leave here can I?’

 

He stood then, preparing to take his leave. ‘No Miss Granger.’ He shook his head. ‘You can’t.’ He walked towards the bathroom door, stopping as he reached the threshold to turn back and face her. ‘What you can do is rest. Let your body recover.’

 

‘And what about you Sir?’ She boldly dared to question, noting his stooped shoulders, his dark-rimmed eyes as he stood in front of her.

 

‘What of me?’ He gave a reluctant shrug of one shoulder. ‘I shall do as I usually do. I shall go to breakfast, where I shall be glared at with enough animosity to make a lesser man shrink into obscurity. I will then precede to teach dunderheads who want nothing better than to harm myself in rebellion for things beyond their control and understanding. After that, perhaps I will then return here to endure the wrath of the girl currently held prisoner, as she will, if she follows my instructions and rests, be at her very peak by the time my day comes to a highly anticipated end.’

 

‘I promised to not fight you Sir.’ Hermione spoke quietly as she attempted to offer a reassurance she was unsure she was able to actually keep.

 

He had the audacity to smirk then, a brow raised. ‘Let’s see how you feel once you discover I have placed wards around that prevent all entry and exit,’ he stressed the words, over-articulating every syllable, ‘to these rooms unless cleared by me.’ He turned then, ‘Rest now.’ he threw over his shoulder, walking into the bathroom closing the door, physically separating himself from her ire. 

He heard the sound of her slamming her body down onto the bed in frustration, the soft gasp informing him the jarring of her injured body enough of a punishment for her actions. He leant on the back of the heavy door, taking a breather, a moment to steel himself for the day, before he shifted, removing his black pants and headed for the shower stall.

Standing under the water, letting the heat beat down over his head, his tired muscles, he made a quick check across his occlumency walls ensuring nothing would slip. That much was imperative. No matter how much he wanted to collapse into a ball of sobbing flesh in the bottom of his shower recess, no matter how much he wanted to avoid what was to follow he knew he simply, as with much of his life, had no choice. He rocked forward, his forehead finding the glass of the shower stall, the cool a contrast to the hot water acting as a soothing force against the pounding in his head, working in juxtaposition to the heat currently pouring down onto the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, schooling his emotions, reigning in all the rogue thoughts of running, of freeing the girl to deal with the consequences of not being dead, of being number two undesirable once more, of simply turning his back on everything he knew to be wrong, escaping the country and living his life in the blessed, albeit lonely solitude of eternal hiding. 

He let his mind wander back to how he had ended up right here right now, standing, hiding for all intents and purposes in his small shower, hiding from the world at large, hiding from the recovering girl in the room next door. His mind, cruel at the best of times, perfectly adept at subconsciously torturing him when he needed no assistance, let images of her injured, naked body assail him. He squeezed his eyes closed, attempting to block the cascade of memories; her wide terrified eyes as she stared up at him, pleading him to release her. The smell of the blood, the sound of the crowd baying for more. The fact that he very clearly overshadowed her, in magical ability, in height and in weight. She was no match for him, injured or not, and the crowd knew it. He could still remember the split second of relief he had seen on her, the relief he had shattered with his very first words, his tone, his sneer. He could still remember exactly what he had said, welcoming her back, asking if she was having a nice time, all the while knowing she was most assuredly not enjoying herself and that she hadn’t for some time now, the bruising, the blood, the tears all testament to that. He remembered goading her, ordering her to fight him, to hit him, hoping above anything that she would see the message hidden in his words, that she would realize that every single line he had uttered had held a double meaning; ‘I am so looking forward to giving you exactly what you deserve’ His attempt to let her know he was doing his best to save her, that what she deserved was freedom. ‘I need you to do exactly as I say Miss Granger, can you do that? I need you to defy me. Miss Granger. Can you do that? Can you be the insufferable-know-it-all for me?’ Calling to her very nature, her desire to please so intrinsic to her personality, her actions allowing him the opportunity to put his plan into place. Her small acts of encouraged violence giving him all the justification he required to see his plan to fruition.

His mind betrayed him then, pulling him from the thoughts that were bordering on his good deeds and turning him to the death he had been forced to finalize. He had not caused it, the days of torture, of rape, of misuse had brought that about, but he had seized his opportunity and capitalized on it. He could so very clearly see the small teenager, clinging to life, her pulse barely existent as he had hefted her into his arms and forced the polyjuice potion down her throat. He could still feel the barely-there weight of her, as he had held her against his chest, a thumb rubbing against her throat coaxing her to swallow. He could remember the relief he had felt when she did, that despite being moments from death her instinct was to remove the liquid from her mouth, her airway. He could remember too how he had stroked her straight black hair away from her face as he had whispered words of reassurance and comfort, assuring her it would be all over soon, that her fight was done, that she would be safe and pain free, all the while knowing it would be he who cast the final blow and rip her from this world. He felt the tears well as he recalled just how young and innocent her face had been, despite the damage. He slammed a hand onto the shower stall as he tried in vain to stop the sob before it began. His failure echoing around the shower stall, muffled by the water yet amplified by the tiles, his distress making him oblivious to the fact that could most likely be heard by the girl in the next room.

He felt his body collapse under the sheer weight of the knowledge that he had chosen one life over another, that he had sacrificed one to save another, that it was he who made the call despite the fact that he was not God, Merlin or even Dumbledore and that in all reality who was he to be making that decision. He let his hands slide down the glass as he fell to his knees on the tiled floor under the stream of water, his only comfort coming from the fact that the water was washing his tears away as fast as he could cry them, dragging them down the drain with the very last scraps of his self-respect. 

He knew what the world thought of him; Severus Snape, ugly, impossible, cruel. Death Eater. To be despised and feared. And he had done what he had needed to perpetuate the myth. At the behest of Dumbledore. To assuage his guilt. A few barbed words deliberately uttered and the students trembled at his name. But to what cost? He had been, until this moment, all alone in his suffering. Save for a select few he let close; his Elf, free to choose where she served, and yet Sage had chosen to serve him. And of course he had Onyx and Lyublyu. And that was it. Until now. Now he had opened himself up to assistance or scorn from two very formidable witches; Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey. He knew that his moment of weakness, his desire to see Hermione healed overshadowing his caution as he summoned the Deputy Headmistress had opened him up to even more suspicion, or quite possibly absolution. 

He shook his head, finally reigning in his raging emotions, letting his brain cling to the possibility that he would be for once given the benefit of the doubt, that he would be granted the reprieve he so desperately desired. Now was not the time to second guess his choices. They had been made, and while he was loath to use the epitaph, they had been made for the greater good. God he hated that phrase. 

He used his hands, one against his knee, the other braced against the glass to lever himself off of the hard tiles and out of the shower. A flick of his wrist saw the water shut off. He reached that hand then for one of the towels on the shelf. As he patted his chest and torso dry he stepped in front of the mirror. The red-rimmed, black-shadowed eyes that started back at him screamed for sleep, for rest, for the very least a glamour. He turned then, disgusted by what he could see and strode quickly to the door. He paused as his hand caught the knob remembering that the girl was still out there, how could he forget, and that he had failed to bring clothes into the bathroom with him. An oversight he was going to have to rectify in the future, his carefully planned routines now being thrown into disarray. He wrapped the towel securely about his hips, knowing he had been clad only in his pants before his shower, hoping that the girl was asleep, but resigned that if luck was not as per the norm on his side, she would have to take him, scars and all.

He opened the door slowly, letting it swing a fraction to allow him to see into the still darkened room. Her small figure was curled onto her side, unfortunately for him, facing away from where he stood, her line of sight directly to his wardrobe, to where he would need to dress. He took a deep breath, his head falling back on his neck, his face to the ceiling as he cursed whatever god deemed it necessary to mess with him as much as it had in the past twelve hours, knowing that his day was only going to get progressively worse from here on out. Exhaling he let the door swing fully open, watching the girl for signs of her stirring, of her awareness of his presence. When she failed to move he took tentative steps towards his wardrobe, towel wrapped tightly about his hips, slung low, held protectively in the front by his left hand, his right ready to react, to pull his wand and defend himself should the need arise.

Once in front of the cupboard he opened the door, wincing as it creaked in the silence of the room. He paused, listening for movement behind him. Satisfied she was indeed asleep he set about dressing, keeping his towel in place as he buttoned a white dress shirt about him and then proceeded to pull his underwear and then trousers up, maneuvering the pieces under his towel before he then relinquished the item, banishing it to the bathroom to dry.

 

Hermione lay quietly, in absolute stillness the moment she had heard the door to the bathroom open. She had heard his emotional outburst through the door, his distress, his sobs ripping through her, unsettling her and forcing her to contemplate just how much of what he had insinuated was true. Was he what he was trying to tell her, an agent for the side of light? Was he misjudged and treated horribly as a result? Was his entire existence a misunderstanding? His uncontrolled tears in the solitude of his own private bathroom could certainly be an indication of that. But then, she thought, it could just be the symptom of a vain, controlled, private man being held accountable for his misdeeds, his privacy shattered, his mistakes called to the forefront for examination. He could be panicking, now he was to be held accountable. Or he could merely be a consummate actor, letting her hear and see exactly what she desired to see, what he would allow her to, in order to manipulate her compliance. 

She glanced up as he crossed in front of her, his movement stirring the air in the room, his body causing a shadow to pass over her face as he crossed in front of the fire. She watched as he stood in front of his wardrobe, her eyes falling on the broad expanse of his back. She caught the gasp, silencing herself as she found herself face to face with the very real evidence of torture, his body littered with scars of varying depth, width and discoloration. She wondered for a moment, who would have done this to him. And then her mind brought to her attention her recent treatment at the hands of his supposed friends, his Death Eater allies. A wave of sympathy washed over her as her eyes roamed over his back, his sinewy muscles drawing her eye as much as the scars and abrasions did. She couldn’t help but marvel at how fit, how well-proportioned he was, not at all like the girls had joked he would be, all the talk of skinny, underweight, unhealthy dissipated from her mind as she watched him quietly dress with the precision she had come to expect from him, his deft movements clothing him, his modesty, or hers she supposed, protected by his towel and his careful movements.

She closed her eyes almost completely as he turned and crossed the room to take the seat beside the bed. She heard him pull his boots on, the clip of the buckles closed on the dragon hide boots punctuating his activity. She watched through hooded lids as he stood then and retrieved his frock coat from where it was folded over the back of the chair. She couldn’t help but notice that with each button secured, his face became more closed off, his emotions now tightly reigned in, his expressionless face frightening in his absolute lack of reaction.

 

With his armor, his black frock coat buttoned to just beneath his chin Severus resumed his Headmaster Snape persona, his emotions tightly under wraps, buttoned down and secured safely in the confines of his costume, his alter-ego. He let his eyes fall to the sleeping girl and for a second let his control slip. He shifted to lean over her form, his hand gently brushing her hair from her face as he looked down at her. His thumb lingered for a moment, lightly resting on the bruise still marring her cheek. ‘I promise you are safe.’ He whispered. He ran his hand over her head once more. ‘Just trust me Little One. You’re safe here. Safer than I am.’


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Breakfast had begun in the Great Hall with its usual din. The students, while not exactly yelling, the noise of the conversing 280 students echoed soundly about the room. She noticed the majority of the noise, was of course coming from the Gryffindor table, from her own house. She felt her brow furrow as she took in the lively conversation, boldly, loudly shared amongst its occupants. Her lips pursed then as her eyes fell on Weasley and Potter, wrestling over what looked to be the last croissant. She felt a small smile tug at her pursed lips, her enjoyment of them seemingly carefree almost overriding her tight control, her disappointment that her boisterous house was the only one to rumble over the dining table.

Hufflepuff talked quietly amongst themselves, their plates and cutlery always immaculate, their spillage limited to the occasional slip of a hand while serving themselves.

Ravenclaw for the most part sat, heads together over unfinished study notes, or silently reading their mail, newspapers or books borrowed from the library.

She let her head turn, her eyes falling on the Slytherin table noting their smug smiles as they spoke in soft tones, their manners impeccable. 

She felt her head start to throb as she waited for news to breach the Great Hall, for the ‘death’ of Hermione Granger to become public knowledge. She let her eyes wander the length of the Head Table. As of that moment all staff were present and accounted for, enjoying their morning meal, chuckling over coffee and muffins and pots of tea. Except that is their ‘esteemed’ Headmaster. He, she noted, was yet to make an appearance. She let her eyes linger briefly on each of her colleagues as she took in their countenances, wondering what each was going to do when the news broke, wondering how she was going to maintain her hatred now that she knew her ire was so very misplaced. She wondered just how she was going maintain that façade, what she was going to have to do to convince the watchers that her loyalties had not swayed now that she had seen just a glimpse of the real Severus Snape. She felt her stomach clench as the door behind the Head Table swung open with a loud, attention-grabbling bang as it flew into the wall behind them. She caught the smile that threatened to break as members of the staff and student body jumped at the newest arrival to the Great Hall, knowing that despite everything Severus Snape had always enjoyed making a grand entrance.

 

He kept his face perfectly blank, impassive as he watched the masses before him jump and swivel towards where he had just strode through the door behind the Head Table. Standing, as he was on the dais, overlooking the students he knew he was every bit as intimidating as he was meant to be; his voluminous black robes billowing out around him, making his already 5’9 seem much larger than his 175cm frame really was, the excess fabric creating not only the illusion of height, but width, the extra dimensions adding to the formidable, frightening presence he radiated with his long black hair that shadowed his features, his penetrating unnerving black gaze, his tight lips narrowed in distaste. He stood taller, pausing for a moment to let his arrival, his slamming door reverberate around the room, silencing the students before him. When silence prevailed he stepped towards his seat at the center of the Head Table wishing once more that he could just slink into his previously occupied seat at the far corner and disappear into the obscurity that not being directly in line of site had granted him, that honor now befell to Hagrid, his bulk slightly disguised by the creeping shadows of the darkened corner.  
As he reached his hand to the back of the monstrosity of the throne-like chair Albus had been adamant was entirely befitting a Hogwart’s Headmaster movement at the Slytherin table caught his eye. One by one the students stood, their benches toppling over at their combined effort. He watched as the Carrows stepped forward to join the students of his former house, their hands coming together in what he could only deem a standing ovation. He held up a hand, his features twisting for a second in disgust as he waited for them to silence themselves under his intense stare. ‘And what,’ he let his gaze lock onto every Slytherin student as he drew out his pause, ‘exactly warranted that unwanted garish display?’ he bit out, his chest tightening at how a generation could be so completely misinformed and molded to hate something of no consequence to them. This was not their war, yet here they were applauding the apparent murder of one of their own classmates.

 

Amycus Carrow stepped forward, shifting to the head of the Slytherin table. ‘Oh don’t be modest Headmaster.’ He smiled broadly then. ‘You deserve nothing less. Ridding the world of that abomination.’ His words triggered another round of wolf-whistles, applause and cheering.

 

‘Enough.’ Severus let his voice echo, reverberating in the immense hall as he watched the students settle, falling silent, as he watched the other professors turn to face him, their faces filled with horror and utter hatred.

 

‘What did you do?’ Minerva was on her feet in an instant. She stepped backwards, knocking her chair over as she faced him, her voice tight, ice cold, forced, her eyes just as hard.

 

‘Why he killed Hermione Granger.’ Alecto crowed, giggling as she joined her brother. ‘Saw it ourselves. With our very own eyes.’

 

‘You monster.’ Minerva spun on him, her wand pointed at his chest. She saw him raise a brow in silent challenge, in acknowledgement of her assessment.

 

‘How could you kill her.’ Harry was on his feet then too, striding down the walkway between the tables, his wand pointed and ready, his glare furious as he approached where Severus stood, unmoving beside his chair, his wand nowhere to be seen flaunting the Headmaster’s his casual dismissal of the attacks coming from various sources in front of him. ‘You are…’ he paused in his verbal attack, seemingly lost for the right words to exactly describe how despicable, how vile Snape was to him right now. ‘You disgusting, great…’

 

‘And what is it you hope to do boy?’ Severus interrupted then. He watched as the Chosen One baulked for a second before his expression turned murderous.

 

‘You’re disgu…’

 

‘Disgusting.’ Severus glared at him. ‘Yes. I know. You said that.’

 

‘I will kill you.’ Harry took another step forward, his arm shaking, his wand faltering as he attempted to stare down the Death Eater Headmaster. ‘For her.’

 

‘Harry.’ Minerva shifted then, moving from behind the table to stand between Severus and Harry and the rest of the student body, all in various states of disbelief, confusion, horror or riled anger hell-bent on revenge. She angled her body, her wand still leveled at Severus, her eyes not straying from his. She saw his head tilt in acknowledgement of her hostility, her rebellion. ‘Mr Potter, I suggest you let me handle this.’ She kept her voice calm now, her anger still present, her anger at the situation and not the man in front of her, currently refusing to engage in any attack aimed his direction.

 

Harry’s eyes darted to his Head of House, his expression mutinous before he turned back to face the enemy, his Hogwart’s arch nemesis. ‘Avada Ked…’ Harry screamed, his wand pointed directly at Severus.

 

Minerva watched as Severus’ head tilted, his jaw tightened and now that she knew where to look she saw the brief flash of sorrow and hurt as it graced his eyes as he, with a flick of a wrist silenced and cancelled Harry’s poorly executed unforgivable. ‘How dare you.’ She growled, rounding on him once more in mock aggravation, mock fury that he had dared to wandlessly silence a student from her house. She focused as she wordlessly altered her spell to be harmless. She yelled her spell, her diversion tactic, sending an ‘Alarte Ascendare’ towards him, her words designed to make the Carrows, the Slytherin supporters of Voldemort believe she was going to hurl him high into the air and forcibly expel him from the room, his trajectory through the back wall ensuring maximum damage to his body on his involuntary exit. 

 

Severus for his part merely waved a hand as though swatting at a fly, her spell dissipating in a small pop, her only impact a slight breeze that disturbed the lengths of his hair. Yet he still did not raise his wand. He turned then to stare down the room, the rampaging Gryffindors, anyone else foolish enough to dare challenge him. He could see the professors around him shrinking back into their chairs, determined to put as much distance between themselves and his presence as possible. He silently, wandlessly cast, his spell simultaneously slamming the doors, sealing the room and extinguishing the candles floating, plunging the Great Hall into darkness. A glow started to rise from the palm of his hand, drawing a gasp from the students caught in the crossfire currently in the Great Hall. The eerie iridescence cast his face into light, his furious visage on open display as terrifying as his wandless control of the entire room, of the situation. 

‘I suggest,’ he kept his voice quietly calm ‘that unless you want to see the full extent of my powers you will…’ he paused for impact. ‘Sit. Down.’ He drew out the words, over annunciating as he stood watching, waiting for someone to move, to defy him. He drew his other hand in an arc, the candles relighting in the wake of his movement. ‘Now.’ He turned to where Minerva still stood, her expression openly aghast, undeniably horrified at his immense wandless control, his previously undisclosed magical ability. ‘That includes you Professor.’ He calmly sat then and reached for a slice of toast on the table in front of him. ‘Please take your place.’ He patted the chair closest to him. ‘As Deputy Headmistress it is only fitting that you are here,’ he smirked then, turning his attention to his toast, ‘Beside me.’

 

‘I’ll…’ Minerva glared at him, her wand still pointed in his direction despite the fact that his actions had clearly dismissed her and everyone else as a threat. She felt a hand come to rest on her arm, pushing her wand gently towards the floor. She let her eyes turn to the hand now holding her.

 

Filius stood beside her, his hand resting on her forearm, his eyes begging her to listen as she met his gaze. ‘It’s not worth it Min. Please. Just let it go.’ He gave her arm a light squeeze. ‘For now.’

 

Minerva gave a small nod in acknowledgement of the Charm’s professor’s sage words. She stood upright, straightening to her full height, mustering as much dignity she could as she swept back around the table and headed towards her chair. As she drew close, she saw Severus stand. She froze for a second as she gripped her wand tighter lifting it slightly as she prepared for the worst, ready to defend against a retaliatory attack from him now that his dominance, his position had been reaffirmed so very clearly. She saw his head tilt slightly, his hair falling roguishly across his eyes as his lips pulled into a tiny smile. He shifted to stand behind her chair, he then slid the chair out for her in a highly public display of exaggerated chivalry. She stepped between the table and her chair, body rigid as she carefully lowered herself to sit, her eyes straightforward as she avoided the pitying gazes of the students who dared to make such a display. She froze, stiffening as she felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders.

 

Severus leant forward then, letting his face move to be level with hers, his lips close to her ear in the final ultimate act of domination, of humiliation. ‘Now you’re exactly where I need you to be.’ He whispered, his words loud enough for those around them to hear, his position telling those assembled everything they needed to know. He straightened and took his seat, his eyes still directed out towards the students.

 

Minerva risked a glance sideways, watching as he slowly, deliberately buttered his toast before placing it onto the plate in front of him. She watched as he then lowered his hands to rest under the edge of the table, his hands finding his knees, his knuckles white as he clung on. Her eyes lifted to his face. From this angle she could see the tension in his jaw, in the pinching of the corners of his eyes, in the tight thin set of his mouth. She saw his eyes go glassy for a second as he lowered his head as though to examine his plate. She watched him blink once before returning his now perfectly schooled, impassive face back to the silent room. She picked up her napkin from the table and in a great show she fluttered it in the air before laying it across her lap and smoothing it out. She returned one hand to the table and claimed her fork, ready to pick at the food on her plate, as she slid her other, concealed by the huge table, the draping linens to rest over his on his knee. She laced her fingers with his surreptitiously as she let her eyes wander discreetly back to his face. If he was surprised by her action he did not show it. In fact, just as she had expected, he did not react at all.

AN// Your comments and Kudos inspire me greatly. I love them all so much, so please don't be shy - make my day...drop me a message. I love hearing your thoughts, ideas, suggestions... Thank you to everyone reading! Your patronage is much appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

Severus leant forward then, letting his face move to be level with hers, his lips close to her ear in the final ultimate act of domination, of humiliation. ‘Now you’re exactly where I need you to be.’ He whispered, his words loud enough for those around them to hear, his position telling those assembled everything they needed to know. He straightened and took his seat, his eyes still directed out towards the students.

Minerva risked a glance sideways, watching as he slowly, deliberately buttered his toast before placing it onto the plate in front of him. She watched as he then lowered his hands to rest under the edge of the table, his hands finding his knees, his knuckles white as he clung on. Her eyes lifted to his face. From this angle she could see the tension in his jaw, in the pinching of the corners of his eyes, in the tight thin set of his mouth. She saw his eyes go glassy for a second as he lowered his head as though to examine his plate. She watched him blink once before returning his now perfectly schooled, impassive face back to the silent room. She picked up her napkin from the table and in a great show she fluttered it in the air before laying it across her lap and smoothing it out. She returned one hand to the table and claimed her fork, ready to pick at the food on her plate, as she slid her other, concealed by the huge table, the draping linens to rest over his on his knee. She laced her fingers with his surreptitiously as she let her eyes wander discreetly back to his face. If he was surprised by her action he did not show it. In fact, just as she had expected, he did not react at all.

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Chapter 11

Hermione woke with a start, her eyes flying open and darting around the room, searching for something. Searching for him. She held her breath as she made her perusal of the room he had left her confined in. This was the third time she had woken, the third time she had made the inspection from the safety of the comfortable, if not excessively large bed. Her previous attempts to survey her surrounds had been met with trepidation and concern. Scared for her safety her concern that he would return had seen her stay in the bed and although she had tried to resist, succumb to the sleep her injured aching body was desperately craving. But she was awake again now, and as she was yet to hear or see him return she felt her curiosity and her sense of rebellion returning. 

Slowly, carefully so as not injure herself further or exacerbate her existing wounds she slid from the bed letting her feet touch the stone floor. She gasped slightly as the cool swept through her, as her movement pulled something causing a twinge of pain to race through her body. She gritted her teeth for a moment as the pain subsided and then she took a few tentative steps towards the wardrobe she had seen him stand before figuring that was as perfectly good place to start as any as she strived for a better understanding of her captor.

Opening the cupboard, one hand on the heavy wooden door, the other braced ready in case her action dislodged his pet boggart, Hermione pushed the door, letting it swing open. She held her breath again, her eyes tightly closed for a second as she waited for the nasty surprise. But nothing came. She chuckled slightly then, wondering just what boggart Headmaster Snape would risk seeing everyday if he was resorting to its use as guardian of his tailoring. 

Now that the door was open she wondered exactly what he would have to hide. What would he have inside. Curiosity killed the cat, screamed in her mind for a brief second but she dismissed it as she stepped closer, her hand reaching to run across the items now hanging exposed before her eyes. Black, she wasn’t surprised, dominated, but as she delved deeper, pushing through the shirts and coats she came across a splash of color. Deep aubergine and sea green caught her attention as she pushed her body further into his clothes, enjoying the softness of the fabrics that found her hands, her skin. Of course he had standard white button-up Oxford shirts, he wore one every day under his frock coat and robes and she was still wearing the one he had given her. Those hadn’t been a surprise to discover, but the beautifully soft, silky shirts of deep rich colors had been. She wondered where he wore them. If he wore them. 

She let her eyes roam across his meticulously ordered closest, the items ordered in color and length, her hands touching everything she could as she took the opportunity to search for something to use against him, some secret, some suspicious item she could hold over his head or bargain with for her freedom. She paused then, hands still in his clothes as her mind went back to her interactions thus far. He had been nothing but polite, kind and even if she allowed herself to acknowledge it, thoughtful. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to determine what his reasoning would be. Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security. She felt her brow furrow as she pondered exactly what he could want, what her position was, where she stood, what he wanted from her.

Lost in her thoughts, her hands shifting the clothing a little more roughly as she began in earnest to search for something incriminating she jumped backwards emitting a small scream as a blur of white shot past her and disappeared through what looked to be a small door, hidden in the shadows in the corner of the room. With her hand to her chest, her heart in her throat she followed its trajectory to the corner only to discover solid stone walls. She frowned again, more confused as ever, convinced she was now seeing things that didn’t exist in her quest to find something implicating, something to validate her fear of the man who now held her captive.

She turned, trailing her hand along the wall as she made her way towards the bedroom door, her fingers brushing gently on the stones of the castle, a warm pulse seemingly accompanying her actions. The magic welcome to her system, not at all sterile, cold as she had expected from the Headmaster’s private chambers. She reached the oak door and grasped the handle in one hand. With a small turn the door clicked open. She froze, shocked that the door had not been locked as she had anticipated. Nothing about her position had been as she had expected, she reminded herself. She pushed the door open with a gentle thrust of her hand, expecting then to come face to face with her irate professor.   
The door opened to revel a room apparently entirely void of human occupants. She took a step forward as her eyes locked onto the floor to ceiling bookcase directly opposite her, her mind caught up in the beauty of the case that covered the entire wall, the shining brass ladder on its runner almost all too much. It wasn’t until she was almost in touching distance that she realized she had entered the serpent’s den completely unprotected, distracted and unaware. She shook her head, mortified at her stupidity as she froze on the spot and waited for something terrible to happen as a result of her misplaced preoccupation. Her eyes, the only thing not frozen, darted from side to side before being inexplicably drawn back to the books in front of her. The vast array of covers, their spines embossed in gold and silver outlining their titles sent her into sensory overdrive. The closer she drew the more the scent of parchment, of old book filled her, surrounded her. If she was dead, then this was certainly her idea of heaven. The choice, the titles, the topics; ranging from Shakespeare and the muggle literary canon to some of the more recent New York Time’s bestsellers right through the vast array of knowledge outlined in the wizarding and muggle texts, their topics all-encompassing; alchemy, global geography, gluten-free cookery, potions and human anatomy. Everything a bibliophile, a know-it-all bookworm could ever dream of was right in front of her very eyes, in reaching, in touching distance. And long to touch she did. She took a small, cautious step, wondering just when his defense mechanisms would kick in. When nothing hexed her, she stretched a hand out, one single finger extended and brushed it over one particularly beautiful leather spine, the gold lettering a series of indentations under where she stroked. 

She was dragging her finger back up the spine for a second run down over the indents when a crash behind her grabbed her attention causing her to snatch her hand away as she spun to face whomever, whatever was responsible. Her eyes fell onto the still empty room. Nothing suspicious, nothing dangerous was lurking. At least not that she could see. What her eyes could see now that her attention had been diverted was the comfortable couches facing each other as they framed the huge fireplace, an oriental rug with plush think pile between them covering the floor. Behind them, tucked into a corner sat a large, solid mahogany desk and leather executive style chair, its high back blocking the end of the bookcase that lined the room, keeping the titles from sight. To the right of the sitting area, adjacent to the door she had entered from was a tall archway, benches and a small oven just visible through it.

Her stomach chose to growl at that moment, the discovery of the kitchen having prompted the organ into consciousness. She shook her head, faced the bookcase, selecting a title to take with her before she crossed the room and entered the small space. She took a moment to explore the offerings, a kettle and tea supply ready on the bench and some roast chicken and bread under stasis had her makeshift meal sorted relatively quickly. She backed herself into the furthest corner of the kitchen and sat, tucked into the join in the cabinetry between the benches, protected from two sides, her eyes facing the entryway as she began eating her sandwich, her cup of tea on the floor by her knee, the book spread open before her. It wasn’t long before she was lost in the pages, her sandwich dangling from her hand, her small bites the only evidence that she had been intending to eat it.  
Severus strode into his chambers, his stress from the day catching up with him, finally threatening to overwhelm him as he crossed the threshold and his memory of the girl contained within assaulted him. He paused by the door, listening for a telltale sign of where she was, wondering, for not the first time today, if he was walking into an ambush as he entered the room. He heard the soft, yet distinctive sound of a page turning coming from his kitchen. His brow rose as he acknowledged that she had indeed made it out of his bedroom, that she was clearly feeling better and that meant his small reprieve was over. Now he had to prepare himself for anything. Standing taller he walked to the edge of the arch and resting his shoulder on the stonework he filled the door blocking her escape as he looked down at her, lost in the world of one of his books; a book on the great myths and legends of the wizarding world if he was not mistaken. He felt his lip pull in the beginnings of a smile as he noted that his arrival had gone unnoticed, her fascination with his book holding all of her attention. He let his gaze linger on her for a moment, enjoying the moment of calm he knew was going to have to shatter. She was still wearing his shirt. He wondered why she had not retrieved her own clothes, he had deliberately left her trunk and other belongings in plain sight in his bedroom. Her hung loose in waves cascading over her face. She held a sandwich precariously in one hand, small crumbs littered the floor beside her. None, of course he noted, were near his book. He cleared his throat softly and watched as the serene expression fell from her features as terrified eyes found his. He saw her body stiffen as she attempted to push herself further into the kitchen benches. He saw the tears well in her eyes and threaten to overflow.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She dropped her eyes to the floor avoiding his gaze.

‘Miss Granger.’ He kept his voice soft. ‘Hermione.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’ She shook her head. 

‘You didn’t mean to what?’ He took a step towards her, moving slowly, careful not to startle her as he shifted to kneel down in front of her.

‘I didn’t mean to.’ Her eyes stayed glued to the floor. ‘I was hungry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask and I…’ her voice trailed off as she shrunk more into herself as she prepared herself for his wrath.

‘Oh little one.’ His words as tortured as he felt. He reached for her wrist, the one holding the sandwich, the one threatening to drop her meal as she shook in fear of his appearance, of his proximity. He wrapped his fingers gently about her wrist as his other hand lifted the sandwich from her grasp before it was destroyed. ‘Am I that callous that I would deny you a meal?’ He held the sandwich loosely in front of her downcast eyes. ‘Is that how you see me?’

She brought her eyes up to his, her expression timid. ‘You’re not mad?’ her voice quiet, her eyes drawn to his as she watched his usually impassive face show nothing but shame and sorrow. Hurt.

‘I am.’ He locked his gaze on hers. ‘But not at you. It was remiss of me not to tell you that everything in the kitchen, in my rooms is at your disposal.’ He dropped his eyes from hers, his shoulders slumping slightly. ‘I should have. But I did not want to wake you when I left this morning. And for that,’ he brought apologetic eyes back to hers ‘I’m sorry.’ He gestured towards the sandwich still in his hand. ‘So please, eat up.’

She reached for it slowly, her eyes still on his waiting, watching for the trick she was certain was coming. ‘And you’re really not mad?’

‘No.’ He shook his head, a small smiling pulling at his lips as he rocked back onto his heels before standing. He gestured vaguely towards the book on the floor. ‘But I may not be so understanding if you spill chicken on my book.’ His smile widened, his expression teasing as he looked down at her, her surprise at his tone, his words clearly evident on her face. ‘It’s one of my favorites.’

She blushed then. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘Don’t be.’ He interrupted her, the smile still on his face. ‘Take your time.’ He took a step back, his expression still gentle, his words quiet. ‘But when you’re done, we need to talk.’ He turned and headed towards the other room, pausing as he reached the archway. He turned to look back at her over his shoulder. ‘I’ll be waiting. Just out here.’


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

She took a deep calming breath and exhaled slowly once she was certain he had left the room as she tried to still her rapidly beating heart. She glanced at the sandwich she held in her hand and then towards the book that lay on the floor. She deliberately moved her hand as far away from the open book as she could physically manage before using her free hand to gently slide the tome across the smooth floor to be certain there was absolutely no way the beautifully illustrated, delightfully detailed pages could be accidently spilled on. She glanced quickly back at the archway trying to get a glimpse of where her captor had gone, her eyes failing to find any sight of him. She frowned then, knowing that despite the fact that she couldn’t see him she knew he was out there. Waiting. Waiting to ‘talk’ to her. Just what he could possibly want to talk to her about was beyond her. Did he want to lay the law, state his rules, regulations and expectations now that he held her? What exactly did he expect of her? Was she to call him Master and cater to his every waking need, his wants and desires? She shuddered at the thought. But then, ‘I am no one’s master’ echoed in her consciousness. Was there a slight chance that he didn’t want anything from her at all?

She pressed her free hand against her forehead, heel above her eyes as she tried to clamp down on, to clear the cascading jumble of images assaulting her brain;

Death Eater Snape holding her down, his body pressed so intimately against hers as he taunted her and called her worthless, his eyes an impenetrable mask of hate.

Professor Snape holding her so very protectively as she cried, as he tended her wounded wrist and catered to her need, carrying her carefully to the bathroom, his eyes showing such concern for her well being she almost for a moment forgot where she was.

Headmaster Snape buttoned to his throat, poised and formal letting down his guard to promise she was safe, to ask for her to trust him, his expressionless eyes dark and foreboding.

And then there was Severus Snape, the man. Humble as he had crouched before her, his face full of expression, his eyes hurt as he questioned her fear, her distrust of him. His unexpressed desire to be thought more of so very clear in his eyes. The man who smirked gently, kindly as he teased her about his book.

She shook her head. No it was this version of him that had her wary. Was he playing to her nature, or was this who he truly was, alone in his rooms, without the conventions of society, the expectations of the Dark Lord and his followers, the protection of his carefully crafted impermeable façade? Was it all just an act? Which version of Snape was real? How was she ever supposed to know?

She swallowed then, steeling herself for what was to come. The conversation. A talk, he had called it. But was it to be? Or was it to be a diatribe packed full of demands. She knew she was stalling, going against the Gryffindor stereotype, but then, she had often thought would she have been better suited to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. If she had only been placed within one of those other two houses she would not be here, in this predicament, she thought before shaking her head once more. Even as Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff she would have challenged the status quo Voldemort was trying to instil. She would have still found herself face to face with a troll in her first year as that incident was not due to her house association, but sure to her bookish, and yes she could admit, swottish behavior fitting to the precocious, overly curious muggleborn let loose into a world of absolute dream and fantasy. So, she, by that reasoning alone would have become friends with Harry and Ron and by default, she would find herself exactly where she now was, huddled, delaying the inevitable in Headmaster Snape’s private kitchen. Oh yes, she decided, Gryffindor or not, she was royally screwed. For now, she hoped that was only a figure of speech, the literal sense of the phrase terrifying her more than the carving of her arm, after all, from what she could vaguely recall, Lucius had done enough to turn her off of that element of servitude for a lifetime.

She stood then, careful not to jar the various parts of her body still aching, gasping softly at the slight pressure-like pain radiating from her lower abdomen, her mons pubis region. She felt her brow furrow as her uninjured hand shifted to press gently on the area where the pain was emanating from, her first pressed tight against her as she tried to halt the ache from deep within. She pursed her lips, having not previously felt this injury before and decided that whatever pain potions she had been given were clearly running out and that was just one more thing she was going to have to demand of the Professor as they had their discussion.

She shuffled slowly, her teeth gritted together as each step pulled on the injury, the pain radiating not only outwards through her abdomen, but also straight out, downwards between her legs. She paused, by the archway, her other hand against the stonework determined to school her features and not allow him any insight into the depth of pain she was experience. She was determined that she would not appear any weaker than she already had in front of him. Breathing quietly, deeply through the throbbing she let her mind focus on the sounds coming from the other room then, taking her attention from her pain and turning it towards her captor, the man waiting for her. She could hear him speaking softly to someone, something, his voice gentle, his tone equally so, his words spoken with a hint of the humor she had witnessed as he had teased her about spilling chicken on his book. She straightened and stepped out of the kitchen as quickly as her body would allow, hoping to catch him and whomever he was talking with by surprise, hoping to gain the upper-hand, if only for that moment.

She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes found him, seated on one of the couches, the one that faced the archway to the kitchen, his body angled away as he sat, turned towards the small fluffy dog currently lying on its back, paws in the air, soft underbelly exposed trustingly to his large hands, hands that were currently tickling the dog, his long fingers rubbing through the creamy curls and he spoke quietly to it. She saw his face turn as he became aware of her arrival into the room, his hands pausing in his assault of the dog, the animal rolling to its feet, its elbows resting on the couch, its wagging tail stuck proudly into the air, its tongue lolling from its mouth as it tried to lick him back into action. She saw the happiness, the humor seep from his expression, his eyes creased in enjoyment smoothed as he took her in. She heard him clear his throat softly. ‘Cute dog.’ She tried, hoping to see the humor back in his eyes and not the expressionless mask he now wore. She figured touching on something as neutral as the dog to start the conversation was a good a topic as any in the grand scheme of things. Plus, she was truly curious as to how he had managed to keep the dog so happy, pleased to be in his company as from what she knew and had read, dogs were the ultimate judges of character. 

‘I can assure Miss Granger she is an impeccable judge of character.’ He responded dryly to her unspoken thought, his eyebrow raised, his face neutral for a moment longer before he smiled once more, turning his attention to the dog, his hands resuming his tickling, his fingers running along its sides as he attempted to dodge the darting tongue. ‘Aren’t you Lyublyu?’

‘Where did she come from?’ She took a tentative step closer, watching as he studiously ignored her movements, his eyes on the dog, the dog however watching her every move with great interest, her every step punctuated with a tail wag.

‘She is mine.’ He answered her question, his eyes still not leaving the dog, despite the fact that she had drawn closer and the animal was now prancing about the couch, spinning around and then sitting straight up, its excitement palpable. He looked at her then, his eyes warm, fond. ‘You’ll have to forgive her. We don’t get visitors often.’

‘Is that what I am? A visitor.’ She mimicked his so often used raised brow.

He looked away from her questioning gaze and back at the dog as he avoided answering. ‘Sit Lyublyu.’ The dog obeyed his gentle command, but only just, its tail wagging madly across the cushions, its front paws lifting slightly from the couch as it prepared to jump up. ‘This is Miss Granger.’ He glanced at her, his expression one of apology. ‘She is going to be staying with us for some time.’

‘Do I get a choice?’ She heard the shrillness enter her tone.

‘This is what I need to talk to you about.’ He kept his eyes locked on hers. ‘Please sit.’ He gestured vaguely to the couch in front of him, the arc of his hand also encompassing the vicinity of the couch opposite, allowing her to pick.

‘I am not a dog.’ She snapped then, her body bristling, straightening suddenly before she gasped softly, her hand flying back to her abdomen, her injury forgotten in her moment of indignation.

He was on his feet then, one of his hands coming to rest on hers, the other wrapping about her shoulders, his face just inches from hers as he studied her eyes for any hint of insincerity. ‘You’re hurting?’ He felt her tense under his touch. ‘Let me help you.’

‘I’m fine.’ She tried to pull away, the action causing her to wince.

‘Please.’ He made to shift her towards the couch, moving her to sit on the place he had so recently vacated. ‘You can even sit with Lyublyu.’ He settled her a moment before stepping away. ‘I will sit over there.’ He backed across the room, watching her for signs of distress. He saw her expression falter as his ever friendly, ever-perceptive dog ran her head along her thigh, lying down, her spine pressed along Hermione’s leg, her head on her knee.

Hermione dropped her eyes to the dog now lying beside her, watching as its tongue continued to flick towards where her hands lay in her lap, its tongue warm against her skin as it made contact. She shifted one hand to rest on the side of the dog, her fingers burying into its cream fur. ‘She’s…’ her voice trailed off as her eyes turned to him.

‘She’s a cavoodle.’ He offered quietly. ‘She’s overly affectionate. And she’s very sensitive to mood. To injury.’ He sat down on the couch, his legs crossed at his ankles as he rested against the back, his eyes not leaving hers. ‘Will you allow me to assist you? To ease your pain?’

‘Will you please just tell me what’s going on?’ She held the eyes contact. ‘Please.’

He bowed his head in acquiescence. ‘As you wish.’ He clasped his hands, his fingers threaded through each other as he rested them in his lap, his position almost a mirror of hers. ‘What do you remember?’

‘You know what happened.’ She glared at him. ‘Why are you…’

‘Please. Hermione.’ He held her gaze as he interrupted her, his face kind, his tone equally so. ‘It’s important.’

‘I remember you.’ Her eyes dropped to her lap, willing up as her voice shook. ‘I remember you holding me down, telling me I was nothing.’ She whispered.

‘I said what I had to say. What I was expected to say.’ He kept his tone flat. ‘Is that all you remember?’

‘You told me to fight you.’ She brought her eyes back to his. ‘Why?’

He saw the confusion in her gaze. ‘I needed the opportunity it created.’ He stated simply.

‘I don’t understand.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

‘I know Little One.’ He smiled then. ‘But you will.’ He turned to face the fire, directing his gaze away from hers. ‘I have a role to play. Things I’m forced to do. Hurting you. Killing you. That is not one of them.’

‘But?’ she attempted to interrupt.

‘But nothing. I was expected to. To hurt you.’ He shook his head, his eyes still avoiding hers. ‘But I could not.’ He turned back to face her. ‘Would not.’ He held her gaze, his expression passive. ‘I used the opportunity to rear back away from you. It gave me the space to allow Sage to appear and take you away. I swapped bodies and no one was the wiser.’

‘You killed someone.’ She whispered, horror filling her eyes.

‘She was already dead.’ He closed his eyes for a moment as the wave of remorse swept through him. ‘But yes, I cast the final curse.’ His voice trailed off, his throat closing, choking off his words. He coughed softly to clear it as he brought tear-filled eyes up to meet hers. ‘I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t let either of you suffer anymore. And she had suffered already so very much. You both had.’ He brushed a hand under his eyes, pushing at tears, hoping she wouldn’t notice them. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’ He shook his head then. ‘I used her pointless and grossly unfair death to free you.’

‘Am I free Professor?’ she questioned softly, taken back by the show of emotion, by his unrestrained tears.

‘Yes.’ He shook his head once more his expression defeated. ‘And no Miss Granger, you are not.’

‘So where does that leave me?’ She asked, her tone more forceful now.

He shrugged then. ‘In my rooms. With me.’

‘I don’t…’

He cut her off. ‘The world believes you are dead. You’re no longer undesirable number 2. No one will be looking for you. No one wants to hurt you anymore.’

‘And what do you want?’ She folded her arms across her chest.

‘I want this godforsaken war over.’ He bit out, his attention back on the flames in the hearth. ‘I want him gone.’ He looked back at her. ‘I just wanted you safe. Beyond that…it all happened so fast…’ He ran a hand through his hair as he schooled his thoughts. ‘But you’re safe now, and provided you stay here, stay dead, you will remain that way.’

‘What if I don’t want to remain here?’ She continued to glare at him. ‘What am I supposed to do from here?’ 

‘You are supposed to stay safe.’ He let one side of his mouth pull into a slight grin.

‘You killed Professor Dumbledore.’ She watched the smile fall from his lips at her words. ‘I don’t trust you. How am I safe here?’ She turned away. ‘With you.’ She threw the accusation at him.

‘You will have to learn to trust me.’ He released the breath he had caught at her tone, her insinuation, the intake he hoped had disguised his hurt. ‘As for what you will do here,’ he paused waiting for her to give him her full attention, to turn back to face him.’

She let herself be drawn to his words, turning to look at him once more. ‘Yes?’

‘There are a few things we need to discuss.’ He stood then and began to pace, his discomfort all too clear.

‘Such as?’ Her eyes followed his movement from one end of the room to the other, his steps wide, his gait forced, his restlessness so unlike the man she had come to know in the classroom, his presence as far from that dominating confident man as it could be.

‘I cannot alter these rooms. They have to stay as they are.’

‘What does that mean?’ She shook her head, her brow furrowed as she tried to understand all that he was saying, and all that he was not.

He stopped then to look at her. ‘I cannot add rooms. We are to share them. As they are.’

‘Share a bed?’ She stood, wobbling precariously as her body protested her haste.

He was on her in a second, his hands finding her waist, his eyes locked on hers, searching. ‘Yes.’

‘Am I to…’ Her voice trailed off, her horror clearly written in her wide eyes, the increasing of her breath.

‘I would never.’ He whispered as he tried to maneuver her back to the chair. ‘Your ribs. Please. Stop. You’re only hurting yourself.’

‘You’re not going to hurt me?’ She shook her head attempting to resist as he pushed her gently onto the couch.

‘No Little One. I am not.’ He held her gaze then, letting her see his sincerity, his intentions.

She took a deep breath, her hand finding his biceps, her fingers wrapping into them, neither pushing him from her or holding him close. ‘Why do you keep calling me that?’

‘What?’ His brow creased in confusion then.

‘Little One.’ She saw a deep blush cover his cheeks, his gaze drop to the floor as his endearment was brought to his attention.

‘I don’t…’ he trailed off, clearing his throat softly before he brought his eyes back to hers. ‘I didn’t realize I was doing it. I’m sorry.’ He released her then, shifting to stand tall once more. ‘You were distressed. I was trying to assist you. Calm you.’ He turned his back on her, his right hand running through his hair, his left dangling in defeat by his side. ‘I am sorry if it made you uncomfortable.’

If she wanted to make a break, she knew now would be the most appropriate time, she thought, with his back to her, his wand nowhere to be seen. But in all truth, she really just wanted to hear him out, this new, kind, different version of him. ‘Everything is making me uncomfortable,’ she spoke quietly, hoping to encourage him to say more.

‘It’s just now that you are no longer my student. I am no longer you Professor, your teacher. I’m not even your Headmaster.’ He paused, his hand finding his eyes, the heel pressing against the bridge of his nose. ‘I am at a loss as to what to call you.’

‘You called me Hermione too.’ She reached a hand up and tentatively touched his back. She felt him tense under her palm before he spun to face her.

‘That is your name.’ He smiled softly down at her, his brow raising, his expression purely teasing now, the tension between them lessening slightly. ‘Is it not?’

‘You also called me Miss Granger.’ She raised a brow at him, at his gentle teasing.

He nodded then. ‘I did.’ His body sagged, his expression torn once more. ‘But under the circumstances, it just doesn’t feel right.’ He let his eyes find something on the wall over her head to focus on. ‘I was aiming for my normal approach to you…’

‘You’ve never been this nice to me.’ She interrupted.

‘No.’ He looked back down at her, his gaze so full of remorse, of apology. ‘But I had always wanted to.’ His eyes darted away after that admission. ‘I meant, using a title you were accustomed too.’ He shook his head, his eyes narrowing for a second. ‘But, in this new situation,’ he gestured between them, ‘it just doesn’t seem right.’

‘So what do I call you?’ She questioned, wondering exactly how he would choose to respond to that. Would he stay stoic or offer the olive branch, allow himself to be more personable?

‘If I am to address you as Hermione.’ He tilted his head as he brought his gaze back to hers, his eyes glittering with something unknown. ‘Then I suggest it is only fitting that you call me Severus.’


	13. Chapter 13

_‘So what do I call you?’ She questioned, wondering exactly how he would choose to respond to that. Would he stay stoic or offer the olive branch, allow himself to be more personable?_

_‘If I am to address you as Hermione.’ He tilted his head as he brought his gaze back to hers, his eyes glittering with something unknown. ‘Then I suggest it is only fitting that you call me Severus.’_

**Warnings apply!!!!!!!**

Chapter 13

‘Severus.’ She tried the word, testing the syllables, rolling each one around her mouth as she addressed him, her eyes locked on his, watching as his widened fractionally, his countenance softening even further as she quietly voiced his given name.

‘Yes?’ His eyes seemed to bore into hers, time stood still as they sized each other up further.

She smiled then. ‘Tell me more about your dog.’ She watched with fascination as he smiled, truly smiled, his eyes lighting up as he held her gaze for a second longer before turning to face the creature in question.

‘Lyublyu?’ He shook his head as he watched his dog open one eye and lazily wag her tail as she acknowledged her name. ‘Well, she has such a hard life.’ He gestured towards where the animal was sprawled across the couch. He brought his eyes back to hers. ‘What is it you would like to know?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’ She paused realizing she had his entire attention, his dark eyes locked on hers interested, open, his body only a few paces away, his hands by his sides, his stance friendly and relaxed. ‘How do spell her name?’ Her words all sped up then, her questions all blending into each other. ‘Is it L-O-O-B-L-U-E? What does it mean? Why do you have her? What are going to do with…’ Her voice trailed off as his expression closed, as he folded his arms over his chest. She took a small step backwards, distancing herself from him, waiting for him to punish her for what could have been, had obviously been so easily misconstrued. ‘I’m sorry.’ She whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor.

He stepped after her, one hand reaching to touch under her chin, to angle her eyes back to his. He consciously schooled the hurt from his features, knowing all too well that she was still so easily terrified of him. ‘Phonetically that’s how you would spell her name.’ He spoke quietly, his voice calm as he smiled gently. ‘But her name is Russian.’ He held up his other hand, his finger coming to land so very gently on her lips as he saw the question manifest itself. ‘It stands for something she gives me unconditionally. But that is a story for another time. When we know each other better. Okay?’ He saw her nod very tentatively. ‘I have had her for nearly ten years. So no,’ he shook his head then, his eyes creasing further in amusement, his hand dropping away from her lips ‘I am not fattening her up to eat her.’ His smile spread. ‘The cat on the other hand.’

‘You have a cat?’ Her eyes widened in disbelief.

‘I do.’ He nodded, stepping backwards, giving her distance once more. ‘Indeed.’

‘And you would eat…?’ her voice trailed off.

‘Her.’ He provided. ‘No, of course I wouldn’t. I take subjugation very seriously.’ He saw her brow furrow at his words. ‘I understand that I am truly her subject.’ He clarified. ‘Not the other way around.’

‘Oh.’ She blushed slightly then, knowing she had once again let her mind jump to the absolute worst conclusion, despite knowing, witnessing him be nothing but kind and gentle. ‘I’m sorry.’

He sat on the couch behind him, holding a hand up to signal her to stop. ‘You do not need to keep apologizing to me Hermione.’ He nodded once in acknowledgement of her tilted head, her confusion. ‘I know this is all very strange.’

‘So, a cat.’ She offered, swinging the conversation back to something once again neutral, to help her feel less exposed, less discombobulated, less uncertain, about his intent, her position here, his very nature. ‘Where are you keeping her?’

‘I keep the cat nowhere. The cat goes where it pleases and graces me with her presence when she deems it appropriate.’ He shrugged then, the teasing smile lighting his eyes once more. ‘Meal times. When I’m trying to mark, or shave or drink my morning coffee. You know, when it causes me the most inconvenience.’

‘That is the very nature of a cat.’ Hermione returned his shrug her mind drifting back to Crookshanks and his antics.

‘Indeed.’ He raised a brow. ‘Her name is Onyx. In case you were wondering.’ And, as if the speaking of her name was akin to a summonsing the cat sauntered seemingly through the corner of the wall, jumped up onto the back of the couch and weaved herself around Severus’ head, her paws coming to rest on his shoulder as she bumped the top of her head against his chin. She mrowed in greeting. ‘Speak of the devil.’

Hermione glanced from the cat, to Severus and back again. Her head tilted as she took in the animal wrapped so lovingly around its owner, or its subject if Severus was to be believed. She blinked twice, slow, deliberate, making sure she was absolutely certain of what she was seeing. And then she began to laugh.

Severus’ eyes darted up to lock onto Hermione’s as he searched for the meaning of her outburst. His brow furrowed as he watched her laugh at what he could only presume was him, his surprise dissipating the moment her laugh turned into a gasp, her hand shooting to grab her abdomen once more. His own hand shot to take hold of the cat, steadying her as he stood, lifting her from his shoulders and depositing her onto the back of the couch before he crossed back to Hermione, his movement to her side he noticed drew no response. ‘Hermione?’ He questioned as he gently wrapped his hands around her and lifted her into his arms.

She couldn’t disguise the gasp at his actions then, her body tensing as she realized just how close he had come without her noticing. Her free hand shifted to press against his bicep, as though to stop him, to hold him at bay, her action pointless as he cradled her against this chest. ‘I don’t want…’

‘Shhh, Little One.’ He interrupted her as he carried her through the doorway and into his bedroom.

‘I don’t want to.’ She tried again.

‘I promise you I’m only trying to help.’ He lowered her onto the bed, his body poised over hers as he looked down on her, his hands resting so very lightly on her sides. ‘You are in pain. And you are now going to let me fix that.’

‘I am, am I?’ She raised a challenging brow.

‘Or you can be insufferable.’ He matched her expression, holding her gaze as he watched, as he waited for her to break. He was rewarded by a tiny smile tugging at her lips, her eyes softening as they looked up at him, her defiance, her resistance slipping from her very countenance. ‘That’s better.’ He nodded and took a seat, sliding his body to rest on the edge of the bed, in the curve of her waist, his hands not leaving her sides. ‘Tell me where hurts.’ He saw her raise a brow again, her eyes teasing as she tightened her jaw. ‘Please.’

‘Since you asked so nice.’ She smiled wider as he rolled his eyes. She was fairly certain she had heard insufferable mumbled under his breath once more. She schooled her features then as she prepared to tell him just where her ailment was. Her cheeks grew pink, the heat rising as she turned away from him, too embarrassed to keep eye contact now. ‘Here.’ She pressed her fingers to the spot halfway between her navel and her core. She dragged her teeth over her lower lip. ‘It’s odd though. It radiates pain forwards, through my stomach.’ She swallowed, her discomfort obvious. ‘And it seems to burn out, down through me.’ She gestured vaguely down from her core towards the floor.

Severus swallowed then, the implication of her injury, the cause of her injury coming to the forefront of his mind. ‘Hermione, can I see what happened to you?’ He saw her eyes snap to his, hers full of fear once more. ‘Your memories?’ He quickly clarified. ‘I need to see what happened so that I can treat the problem properly.’

‘I thought you already treated me.’ She whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

He nodded, meeting her questioning gaze. ‘We only did what we could see. What we knew was exact. But this,’ he gestured towards her abdomen, ‘I do not want to attempt without knowing exactly what needs to be done.’ He reached out and caught her chin, angling her eyes back to his as she tried to turn away. ‘Please?’

‘How?’ The word was strangled.

‘You have two options. Both are invasive.’ He saw her flinch, his hand tightened ever so slightly on her hip, his thumb stroking softly, in what he hoped was a soothing motion. ‘The first, I can extract the memory, view it in a pensive and then restore it for you. You won’t have to live through it again as I see, but it takes time.’

‘And the second?’ Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, as she prepared herself.

‘It’s quicker.’ He stated quietly. ‘You bring the memory forward and let me view it.’ He raised his brows in insinuation of his meaning. ‘From here.’

‘Legilimency?’ Her breath caught. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not when it’s done right.’ He tried to placate her, assure her.

‘And you’ll see everything?’ Her eyes bore into his, her terror almost palpable now.

‘I will only see what you allow me to see.’ He held her gaze, his expression open, honest. ‘I promise I will not go looking to anything else.’

‘I don’t…’ She shook her head. ‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘You don’t.’ He shrugged then, his voice hurt, hopeful. ‘But this is where you could maybe begin to find out.’

‘Okay.’ She nodded once. ‘What do you need me to do?’

‘Always the student?’ He smirked down at her then relieved, his eyes teasing.

‘Oh, I aim to learn. One day I plan to do this to you.’ She raised a brow in challenge.

‘We will see.’ He acknowledged quietly as he placed a hand on her cheek, the other lifting into the air to catch his summoned wand.

‘You’ll see.’ She whispered, bracing herself.

‘Relax Hermione.’ He whispered, his eyes locking on hers. ‘Just keep looking at me. I won’t hurt you Little One.’ He pointed his wand at her. ‘Legilimency…’

_‘He wants to give her to Snape.’ The words were spat as he strode through the door, a flurry of platinum blonde hair and tight grey pants. He walked over to where Bellatrix had the girl pinned to the floor. He looked down at her, smiling as her fear-filled eyes landed on him, her focus wavering as Bella drew another line down her outstretched arm. ‘And I had such plans.’_

_‘It’s a shame.’ Bella glanced over her shoulder at her brother-in-law. ‘But it seems we have time for a little fun.’_

_‘Clearly.’ Lucius looked down at her handiwork, the word glaringly obvious, the blood staining the Persian rug, the smell of vomit lingering in the air._

_‘There is nothing stopping you Luci?’ Bellatrix taunted._

_‘The Dark Lord wants her untouched.’ He spat again, his disagreement of the Dark Lord’s command adamantly clear. ‘Her defilement is to be the encore in this evening’s entertainment.’_

_‘Untouched?’ Bellatrix cackled then. ‘That doesn’t mean we can’t make her wet for him.’ She passed him back her blade, the tip still coated in Hermione’s blood. Her hands returned to the girl on the floor, her fingers wrapping around her thighs as she spread them open. She leant forward, her teeth finding the skin of Hermione’s inner thigh. She nibbled towards the girl’s center, before lifting her head to look at her brother-in-law once more. ‘Don’t just stand there. We don’t have all night. And Snape does not deserve all the fun.’_

_Lucius dropped to his knees beside Hermione’s prone body then, a hand running under the edge of her thigh to find her knee. He used his grip to lift her knee towards her chest. He leant down, his teeth clamping down, biting until she cried out begging for him to stop, until he tasted blood, his mark; a prefect dental imprint etched into her skin. Straightening he looked down at her. ‘Oh, we are only just getting started, Mudblood. And we are nothing compared to what he will do.’ He grinned widely then, his white teeth gleaming, shark-like. ‘He is going to rip you apart. Severus, I mean. The man is an animal.’ He chuckled then watching her process what he had implied. ‘And when he is done with you. I am going to finish you off.’ He reached his hand forward, dragging the tip of Bella’s blade across her chest, crisscrossing, drawing deep lines, making certain the tip passed through each nipple, their points of intersection strategically placed._

_‘Pretty.’ Bella smiled down at his handiwork. She twirled a finger in the welling blood between Hermione’s breasts before lifting her finger, sucking it into her mouth. She sat back on her haunches then as Lucius moved the knife, the tip pressing into the folds between the girl’s legs. She giggled, the sound maniacal as she watched him carve into the girls bundle of nerves._

_‘And now for the pier-d-resistance.’ Lucius shifted, nudging Bellatrix out of the way as he pushed his body in between Hermione’s spread thighs. He lowered the knife and pressed forward watching as the tip disappeared, careful to not push too far, to not destroy the girl’s innocence entirely, it was, after all what the Dark Lord was baying for…_

‘Oh Little One.’ Severus spoke as he came back into himself. ‘That should never have happened.’ He reached to wipe his thumb across her cheek, brushing the free-flowing tears away as they streamed down her face. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Did you see what you needed?’ She spoke quietly, once her tears were under control.

‘I did.’ He mimicked her volume, her tone.

She saw him swallow. ‘What?’ She watched him turn his eyes away, his cheeks flushing red. ‘You have to tell me.’ She placed a hand on his forearm. ‘Severus please.’

‘They used a cursed blade on you.’ He kept his eyes focused on the wall away from her. ‘I healed what saw last night. If I don’t heal this one, if I don’t remove the curse it will never stop hurting.’

‘So you can fix this? Me?’ Her throat squeezed closed, cutting her words off.

‘Yes.’ He nodded, his voice, his expression grave. ‘But, I have to touch you.’ He turned his eyes back to hers then, hoping she would see what he was trying to say.

‘No.’ she whispered, pained.

‘I am sorry.’ He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it backwards before letting it fall to cover his face.

‘Stop saying that.’ She snapped at this then her horror, her frustration at the situation reaching the surface. ‘Stop saying you’re sorry.’

‘I am sorry Hermione. For what happened to you.’ He stood slightly then, leaning over her, his hands shifting to hold her down. ‘And for this.’ His left hand shifted to rest against her stomach, this fingers spread, the pressure even and gently restraining as his right hand traveled slowly down over her hip to rest between her thighs, over her entire core, his palm barely touching her, his fingers just as light as they covered her.

‘No please.’ She pleaded with him, her eyes, her voice filling with tears. She tried to grab his hands, to tug them away, his hold far too strong. Her nails dug into his skin.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, his eyes glued to hers. ‘It’s the only way. I have to…’ His voice trailed off as his eyes closed, his breathing increased, his brow furrowed.

She saw the sweat begin to bead on his forehead, his obvious distress overriding her own as she realized he was suffering, that he was causing himself pain. To help her. That he wasn’t taking liberties, that he was barely touching her, that he hadn’t even exposed her, looked at her. She watched with horror as he tightened his jaw, as he swallowed back a grunt of pain. She could see the color leaching from his face, his usual pale deathly now, his lips bluing. She felt his hands start to shudder against her. She could see his body trembling in exertion. ‘Enough. Please.’ She bit out, her nails digging into his forearm deeper as she tried to gain his attention.

‘Almost there.’ He ground out between his teeth, his hands not shifting despite their trembling.

‘You’re…’

‘I’m fine.’ He gasped as he lifted his hands suddenly, taking a few staggering steps backwards. ‘I’m…’ His sentence ceased as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the stone floor a second before he collapsed onto his knees, the crack of his impact echoing in the room

‘Severus.’ Hermione followed his descent, shifting quickly from the bed, noticing as she moved that the pain was gone. With a wave of her hand the vomit vanished, allowing her to fall to her knees beside him. ‘Oh my god Severus.’ She caught him as his eyes rolled backwards into his head. ‘Please. Severus.’ She attempted to lie him gently onto the floor, knowing that there was no humanly possible way she could get him into the bed and not knowing where her wand was to do it magically. She wasn’t sure her wandless magic was up to the task of levitating a full man. And, now, she was absolutely certain she did not want to risk his life further. Having him horizontal now, she brushed her hand over his head, pushing his hair from his face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched his eyes flutter open. She could see the tear tracks on his own face to match hers. ‘Why did you do that? Why would you do that for me?

‘Why were you laughing at me?’ He whispered, the words forced between deep gasps for breath, his obvious change of topic not going unnoticed.

‘I wasn’t.’ Hermione brushed her hand across his forehead once more before cupping his cheek gently as she cradled his head against her chest. She could see the pain in his eyes. ‘Severus, your cat is mainly white.’ She thought back to first seeing the sleek white animal, its stark whiteness broken by faint grey spots lined in deep jet black. Its eyes had been the most startling blue. ‘Why, why would you call her Onyx?’ The image of the smooth black mineral often used in potions sprung to the forefront of her mind.

‘Irony.’ The word was spoken on a very obvious exceedingly slow exhale as his eyes closed, as he gave up the fight and fell into unconsciousness.

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Hermione bowed her head down over where she held his, cradled protectively in her arms, flush against her chest. Her right hand continued a steady sweep over his forehead and down over his ear to his throat as she attempted to ease her own concern, her own mortification at how events had progresses as she tried to provide comfort to the one man everyone had assumed was the enemy. But then, she thought, you know what they say about assuming…it made an ass out of you and me. And it was so very true. She felt like a royal ass. She had always been the one to stand up for the man in her arms when the other students complained and were disrespectful of him. She had always deferred to his title, even when the others refused. She had defended his teaching methods, citing that while often harsh and demanding they had been by far the most thorough and informative, his lessons covering far more useful topics than Divination and the like. Sure knowing how to feed a Hippogriff was fun, but brewing an elixir to put a stopper in death was far more practical, and not to mention dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Yes, there were many reasons why he had been the most vigilant and severe of their teachers. She let her mind drift over her history with the man, her eidetic memory pulling forward all of those times he had insulted her or belittled her in class;  
Her mind called forward his often used ‘insufferable know-it-all.’ Without the insufferable added he could have been simply recognizing, the only way he could, her thorough preparation for class, her intelligence. 

The same could be said for the times he berated her for ‘always having to jump in with the correct answer, Miss Granger.’ Acknowledging her theory, her attention to details by providing her feedback disguised as a knock down.

And then there was the time he ‘saw no difference’ when Draco had hexed her teeth. Could he have been telling her to ignore the issue and therefore rendering Draco’s bullying ineffective when she gained control of her emotions and then showed no reaction? Was he providing comfort in the camouflage of an insult?

Everything he had done and said while buttoned into the role of Professor, of Headmaster was a direct contradiction to the man she had witnessed in his private quarters. He had tried so very hard to make her comfortable, to approach her with geniality and grace, kindness and patience. He had smiled and had been so very tender in his unavoidable touches to her person. Hell, she conceded, he had absorbed dark magic from her to save her a life of discomfort and the results had proved to be detrimental to his health as he was now unconscious, having vomited and passed out on the cold hard stone floor.

Of course, this was all purely speculation. He could just be a consummate actor, lulling her into a false sense of security, his persona of the kind, animal loving, emotionally liberal man the true façade. It was pretty good façade though, if she really thought about it, the lengths he had gone to just to save her from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, from the dark magic she had been cursed with. 

She brushed his hair away from his face, the wet strands tangling around her fingers, his sweat-soaked face still deathly pale, his skin clammy and ice cold. ‘I am so sorry. I don’t know you at all. I’m sorry I doubted your sincerity. You didn’t have to do this to yourself to show me.’ She rocked his body gently as she whispered her pleas, her regret. ‘I am so sorry. I am sor…’ Her words came to an abrupt halt as a small pop sounded directly in front of where she sat cradling his body against hers, her arms wrapped protectively around his torso and head, shielding him as she flinched at the sudden interruption. Her head snapped up, her eyes landing on the small, wizened house elf staring at her. She watched its eyes narrow a second before it began to gesture madly about her.

‘Too soon. Severus. Too soon.’ She shook her head, her eyes scanning the scene before her. ‘Dark Magic. Bad. Not ready. Bad.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Hermione whispered. ‘I couldn’t…’ her voice trailed off as the elf locked her gaze onto hers. This was no ordinary elf. This elf showed no signs of timidity, of hesitation.

‘Of course not.’ It shook its head. ‘Little Miss too little. Too young.’ She narrowed her eyes even further. ‘Like Severus.’

‘You were here before.’ Hermione spoke softly, recognizing her as the elf that had told her to stay, to wait for its master.

‘I is Sage.’ The elf nodded. ‘I helped.’ She nodded once more. ‘I help Severus now.’

‘He’s your master?’ Hermione watched as the elf narrowed her eyes once more, her lips pulling back to bear her teeth for a moment.

‘He is my elf-ling.’ She stated clearly, possessively. ‘I has had him for very long time. He is MY Severus.’ She snapped her long fingers, the action sending both Severus and Hermione into the bed, their positions unchanged, the relocation instant. ‘I is telling him he is no elf.’ Sage stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on his chest. She ignored Hermione’s soft gasp of surprise at her sudden shift from the floor to the bed. ‘Dark magic bad magic.’ She closed her eyes and began to chant softly, the words spoken in a language Hermione did not recognize. 

Hermione watched a deep purple glow began to swirl from his chest. It swarmed, as though a hive of wasps, around the small elf, the color darkening to almost black as she continued to chant, the elf appearing unaffected by the whole experience. She watched as the black-purple cloud began to fade, sliding through the spectrum of violet to lavender to the palest of all purples before completely disappearing from sight. ‘What did you do?’ She whispered, the awe in her voice.

‘I is using old magics.’ The elf stepped backwards. ‘He tried.’ She shook her head again as her eyes found Severus’ face. ‘Not old enough to truly use.’

‘He used elf magic?’ It was Hermione’s turn to shake her head, her disbelief clear in her eyes.

‘Indeed.’ Sage smiled then, her expression, her word choice eerily like that of the man she claimed as her elf-ling. ‘I is teaching him. But he is young.’

Hermione giggled at that. He was considered by the students of Hogwarts to be the complete opposite of young. She schooled her features, contained her laughter at the look the elf shot her. ‘Is he going to be okay?’ She asked instead, changing the old elf’s focus.

‘You is be staying there.’ The elf pointed once at her before popping from sight.

‘I is be staying here.’ Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering how she was going to move, trapped as she was, her arms straining as her unconscious companion grew heavier in her arms by the minute. She dropped her gaze to look at him once more. His skin was a healthier pink hue, pale, but normal. The sweating had stopped and his breathing seemed more regular. She stroked her hand over his head yet again smoothing away his hair, feeling the softness in her fingers now that it had dried. She heard the pop, and while she still jumped slightly at the noise, she had been expecting the return of the bossy little elf. She lifted her eyes and started entirely. The elf was not alone.

‘What is the meaning of this? What are you…’ her voice trailed off as the elf released her arm, as she turned around and her eyes located Hermione and Severus, still wrapped together on the bed, Hermione cradling her patient to her chest. ‘Hermione. Oh thank god.’

‘Professor?’ She felt her head tilt as she acknowledged Professor McGonagall standing in the Headmaster’s private quarters, her long hair loose about her shoulders, her nightdress and tartan shawl as out of place as the woman herself.

‘Severus?’ The Deputy’s hand shot to her heart. ‘No?’ She locked her eyes onto Hermione’s then. ‘Tell me he isn’t…’ her voice trailed off.

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘He collapsed.’ She dragged her teeth over her lower lip as her eyes dropped to the bed. ‘Helping me.’

‘He did old magics.’ Sage offered. ‘He not ready.’ She pointed at Minerva, her expression defiant, annoyed. ‘He need better than this.’

‘Yes.’ Minerva nodded once in acknowledgement of the elf’s accusation and her unspoken request. ‘He does.’ She shrugged then, defeated. ‘But I didn’t know.’

‘You do now. Little Miss too.’ Sage rounded on Hermione. ‘He need better.’ She smiled then as Hermione nodded, her expression sad as she too acknowledged their failures to recognize the smoke and mirrors, to let their opinions be swayed by the narrow mindedness and manipulation of others. ‘He is good man. Good to Sage. And LyuBlyu. And Onyx. And…’

‘Onyx?’ Minerva interrupted her list. ‘Loo?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Who?’

‘It’s a long story Professor.’ Hermione offered.

‘It always is.’ Minerva acknowledged. ‘Everything about him is. A long story wrapped into an enigma.’


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

‘He is an enigma isn’t he?’ Hermione voiced the question softly, her eyes moving from his face to where her Deputy, her Head of House stood in her pajamas, her white floor length gown and tartan shawl, staring back at her. ‘Why are you here?’

Minerva smiled at that before she sent a questioning glance at the little elf. ‘That too is an enigma I’m afraid. I was planning to go to bed before…’

‘He be needing help.’ Sage offered. ‘He be needing friends. Sage saw Severus bring you. Sage bring you too.’ She shifted to where Hermione held her ‘elf-ling’ in her arms, scooting the girl away as she lay him out flat, stretching his body along the bed. A click of her fingers saw his dragon hide boots positioned along the wall, his sock draping over their open tops. ‘I be needing you to check.’ Sage continued to fuss about, covering his body with the sheet. She clicked her fingers once more and his clothes folded themselves onto the empty chair beside the bed. ‘Check him.’

The elf’s tone shocked Minerva into action then. ‘I can run a diagnostic.’ She shook her head. ‘But it would be better if Poppy were here.’ 

The little’s elf’s eyes narrowed. ‘Other narky healer woman? She help?’ She nodded once more, apparently having mulled it over and decided. ‘She help too.’

Minerva resisted the urge to smirk at the elf’s choice of words, recalling exactly how Poppy had come to earn the title as she and Severus had bantered earlier. ‘Yes. She will help.’

‘I is on it.’

‘No wai…’ But Sage had popped out of existence completely ignoring Minerva’s words. ‘She is rather bossy is she not?’ Minerva directed the question to Hermione, watching as her favorite student attempted to stifle a giggle.

‘Well. I never.’ Poppy’s voice echoed into the room at her appearance behind Minerva’s back. ‘I may be many things Min, but bossy…’

‘Not you Leannan.’ She turned to face her, ignoring Hermione’s failure to stop the giggles escaping. She shook her head then. ‘It doesn’t matter. We need to help Severus.’

‘Again?’ Poppy raised a brow, her hand on her hips. ‘What has the boy gone and gotten himself into now?’ She let her eyes drift towards where Hermione was sitting, her body poised on the edge of the bed. ‘Miss Granger.’ She acknowledged.

‘He hasn’t. He didn’t.’ Hermione shook her head as she gathered her thoughts. ‘He doesn’t deserve this.’ She gestured vaguely in the direction of Severus’ prone form.

‘I know.’ Poppy softened her tone as she stepped closer. ‘I think we are all starting to realize the duplicity did not indeed lie with the current Headmaster.’ She motioned for Hermione to shift out of her way. 

‘Professor Dumbledore’ Hermione commented as she moved towards where Minerva stood, waiting, watching. ‘I always wondered just where he stood in regards to ‘the greater good.’ 

‘You did?’ Minerva glanced quickly at her, her brows furrowed. 

‘He was one for games.’ Hermione nodded adamantly. ‘Never quite giving all the information, just dangling the carrot to see who would take the bite.’ She felt her own brow furrow. ‘How much easier would things have been if he had just painted the entire picture.’

‘Severus would not have endured this alone.’ Minerva spoke softly, her voice full of remorse. ‘If I had been allowed to know the plan, the great sacrifice required, he would not have been here suffering alone.’

‘The plan?’ Hermione shook her head. ‘You lost me. I don’t understand.’ 

‘Welcome to the world as we know it.’ Poppy too shook her head, her emotions running wild. ‘Albus has a lot to be accounted for.’ Her attention turning back to the unconscious man in the bed before her. ‘Do you know how many injuries I have had to treat for Severus? How many times I did not know the cause of what I was treating, the truth of the symptoms or how he acquired them.’ She kept her eyes locked onto his closed face, away from the others. ‘How many times I’ve patched him up, only to have the follow up dismissed? At the behest of the Headmaster.’ She raised her wand and pointed it toward his chest, watching as colors streamed about her, reading his vitals, recording its data. ‘How many times I never even questioned the directive. Even when my duty of care screamed for me to do otherwise. I just let it go. Let him go.’

‘We all did.’ Minerva shifted to the end of the bed, her hand reaching up to find Poppy’s shoulder. ‘We are all just as guilty. I dismissed him. I taught him and I knew him. I watched him grow and I turned my back on him. Wrote him off as evil. And I knew him.’ She felt her eyes ill with tears as just how much injustice she had contributed too.

‘He also seemed so hard, so nasty,’ she saw Minerva’s eyes find hers. ‘In class I mean. He was unnecessarily callous.’ Hermione swallowed. ‘He was the evil Death Eater. He played him to perfection.’

‘But I should have known better.’ Minerva scolded herself. ‘I knew him. I knew he wasn’t evil. And I never once stopped to see what lay beyond the smoke screen. I too just played my part, defying him at every opportunity.’

‘And now you make better.’ Sage nodded, happy to see past wrongdoings being acknowledged.

‘By first seeing what we can do here.’ Poppy touched the tip of her wand to the center of his chest. ‘His magical core is struggling. What happened?’ She directed her attention to Hermione then. 

‘He drew dark magic from me.’ She whispered.

‘Again?’ Poppy’s brow furrowed as she weaved her wand across his chest. ‘So soon.’

‘Too soon.’ Sage commented. 

‘He was helping me.’ Hermione stepped up to the bedside and looked down on him. ‘He said he had to remove it. I didn’t really get a choice. I didn’t know it was going to hurt him…’ her voice trailed off as she choked back tears. ‘He just wanted me to trust him.’

‘And now we make sure he knows he can trust us.’ Minerva placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She straightened slightly as Poppy stepped over towards them, her face relaxed, her eyes no longer concerned.

‘He is sleeping.’ She smiled then. ‘He will be fine.’

‘No more dark magic.’ Sage glared at Hermione. ‘Little Miss have no more?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I didn’t know I had it to start with. I didn’t mean to…’

‘I will see.’ Poppy turned the face the house elf, her eyebrow raised. ‘Good enough?’

‘Enough. Good.’ Sage nodded before popping from the room, leaving the three of them to contemplate everything they had seen, heard and learned in the past thirty-six hours, everything that was going to change the very world they lived and fought in.

‘Sit Miss Granger.’ Poppy pointed towards the end of the bed, gesturing for her to take the place so that she could conduct a fast but thorough examination of her.

‘Hermione.’ She stated as she followed the instruction. ‘Apparently Miss Granger is dead.’ She shrugged one shoulder in nonchalance.

‘Just like that?’ Poppy shook her head.

‘Just like that.’ Hermione began to giggle then, the situation finally catching up to her. 

‘Miss Granger.’ Poppy tried to get her attention. ‘Hermione.’ She tried once more before rolling her eyes and starting her silent observation of her, the wand pointed at her chest, the colors emerging once more.

‘Let her be Leannan.’ Minerva smiled then. ‘It’s been a very long day.’

‘At least I’m not the one being bossed around by a house elf.’ Hermione giggled again, thinking back on the way Sage had wrangled the Deputy Headmistress and the ‘narky Healer woman’ into doing her bidding. ‘Perhaps we could send her to confront You-Know-Who?'

‘I’m not so sure that’s an entirely terrible idea.’ Minerva’s smile grew to match Hermione’s. ‘Just think, Dark Lord Dead due to elf-ness.’

Hermione was about to retort when there was a groan from the bed. She jumped up, spinning to stand between the two other, older witches, their eyes glued to the man in the bed, Poppy’s wand still pointed at the space Hermione had just vacated.

Severus blinked a couple of times as he churned the saliva in his mouth, trying to ease the parched sensation his vomiting had caused. His eyes shuttered over his surrounds, his rooms, the three women standing at the end of the bed, a wand maybe more drawn and pointed in his direction. He forced his body upright, springing from the bed to land on the side, the corner of the mattress separating him from his attackers. He saw Hermione blush and turn away slightly, as Poppy shook her head, her wand lowering. He heard Minerva laugh softly, her eyes dropping to the place he had just ejected himself from in a stellar display of strength and finesse. He followed her gaze, his own taking a course over his body, his bare chest, his naked hips and thighs. ‘Oh for the love of…’ He let his curse hang in the air as he motioned, wandless for a cushion, grabbing the item and holding it tightly with one hand across his privates. He ran his free hand through his hair.

‘I did not need to see your dangly bits Severus.’ Minerva continued to laugh, her eyes blazing as she attempted to bring herself under control. ‘What a perfectly good end to a perfectly terrible few days.’

‘Exactly my sentiments.’ Severus bit out, his voice lacking all venom, his eyes tired, his cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. ‘I’m not sure this is what one has in mind when fantasizing about three women in one’s chambers while one is naked.’ 

Minerva saw Poppy grin beside her as Hermione ducked her head lower, her eyes glued to the floor in front of her. ‘And, I for the life of me cannot imagine why not?’ Minerva returned his teasing.

‘Well for starters, woman,’ he lifted his eyes to hers, a smile gracing his face. ‘It appears that I am the only one naked.’

Hermione began to giggle then, her face flushed, her eyes refusing to leave the stone floor. ‘And for that, I will be eternally grateful.’


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Severus let his gaze from drift across the three women in his room. His eyebrow raised as he took in their appearances; Minerva’s shawl and nightgown, Poppy’s dressing gown thrown haphazardly over her matron’s uniform and Hermione, still seated facing away from him and still dressed in the shirt he had covered her with. This was clearly not a visit any of them had planned or expected. ‘So,’ he began, his voice one of casual disinterest, ‘two things. To what do I owe the pleasure? And, if you’re going to hex me, could I possibly put on pants first?’

Minerva smirked, rolling her eyes at his thinly veiled dramatics, his feigned nonchalance. ‘Well, Severus, we are neither here by choice nor to hex you.’ She smiled then, wiggling her eyebrows. ‘But trust me when I tell you, it has been entirely our pleasure.’ She saw the look Poppy shot at her, her lips pulled into a sly smile, the gentle shake of her head. ‘Oh don’t look at me like that. A narky old woman can look and appreciate.’

‘And here I thought my dangly bits had offended your delicate sensibilities Minerva.’ Severus raised his brow once more, his head tilting, his pants wrapping themselves seamlessly around him. He dropped the cushion back onto the bed as he held her gaze.

‘Oh please Severus, I’m Scottish, we invented haggis. It takes a lot to offend my,’ she grinned wider then, ‘delicate sensibilities.’ She gestured towards Hermione. ‘I can’t speak for Miss Granger however.’ 

‘I’m fine.’ She spoke quietly, ‘I was just surprised.’

‘Is that so?’ Severus directed his intense gaze towards her still turned back. ‘Look at me Hermione,’ he encouraged.  
‘I can’t,’ she responded sheepishly, shaking her head.

‘You can and you will.’ He held firm.

‘He has pants back on.’ Poppy grinned down at the blushing younger woman as she attempted to reassure her.

‘Oh.’ Hermione spun carefully around and let her eyes lift to his, she could feel her cheeks heating even further under his amused gaze.

‘Surprised?’ He questioned, his eye contact relentless.

‘You’re nothing like I expected.’ She whispered, her eyes dropping from his, her answer vague in its all-encompassing nature; its ambiguousness possibly referring to his vastly different personality as shown to her in the last few hours, his actions towards helping her at the peril of his own health or his fit, healthy, beautifully sculpted body he had unwittingly shown to the occupants of the room.

‘And is that a bad thing Little One?’ He matched her tone, softening his volume, his voice smooth and silky as he stood on the opposite side to the bed to her.

‘I don’t think so.’ She shook her head as she bravely lifted her eyes back to his. ‘No.’

 

‘Indeed.’ Severus softened his gaze, the amusement falling from his eyes as he looked down at her. ‘And you will trust me?’

‘I will try.’

‘That is all I can ask.’ He nodded once in acknowledgement of her concession.

‘I hope one day you will trust us too. Implicitly.’ Minerva turned to face him directly, her expression frank, her eyes determined. She watched him nod again, the action minute. ‘Enough to tell us everything Laddie, not just what you need us to do.’ She held his gaze.

‘I cannot tell you everything.’ He shook his head.

‘We will find a way to circumvent that vow.’ Minerva stressed, her meaning very clear, that she would move heaven and earth to ensure that she was not kept in the dark again, that she would be there whenever, however he needed her to be. She would never question his loyalty, his courage again.

‘I will not tell you everything Minerva. Even if I wanted too.’ He smirked then. ‘Which I don’t.’ His eyes grew serious. ‘There are some things even I wish I did not know. I will not inflict them on you.’ He glanced between the women gathered in his quarters. ‘Any of you.’

‘You shouldn’t have to suffer alone.’ Minerva held his gaze.

He glanced away, his eyes finding the stone wall. ‘It is my penance.’

‘Let me guess, another long story?’ Minerva’s voice turned hard, her temper flaring. ‘One you cannot, or will not tell me.’

‘It is my greatest shame.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘It cost me my best friend.’ His voice grew quiet. ‘I will tell you one day. But not today.’ He shook his head. ‘I have had about as much of today as I can stand.’

‘You and me both.’ Poppy shifted to drop into the chair beside the bed. ‘I was heading to bed. But apparently your elf had other ideas.’

‘Sage brought you here?’ His eyes narrowed as he returned his gaze back to the three women.

‘Quite dramatically actually.’ Minerva smiled gently her action designed to calm and soothe him. ‘It was most unexpected, but not unwanted.’

‘You want to be here?’ His eyes narrowed further.

‘I want to help you Severus. I want to understand and to support you.’ Minerva stepped away from the bed and began to pace. ‘I don’t want you to ever feel alone or isolated again.’ She spun back to face him, her expression open, honest. ‘I just want to be here for you. That’s what I want.’

‘And that is what you both want?’ He directed the question to include Poppy.

‘I want a cup of tea.’ Poppy muttered under her breath, drawing a small smile from Minerva as the tension broke.

‘That is something I can do.’ Severus nodded before he gestured towards the open door to his living room. ‘Please, make yourselves comfortable, I’ll just redress and then I’ll be right with you.’ He watched as they nodded in agreement and began to shift towards the door. ‘Hermione? A word?’ He saw her stop in the doorway. He saw Minerva place a hand on her shoulder and give her a gentle squeeze. He felt his brow furrow as he realized she was still hesitant to be left with him on her own. He watched as she turned back to face him before slowly crossing the room to sit on the very edge of the chair beside his bed. ‘I know this isn’t what you want.’ He started.

‘No.’ She shook her head, interrupting him. ‘I want to help you. In any way I can.’

‘But you were never even given the choice.’ He shifted to the wardrobe, retrieving a new clean white shirt. He kept his back to her as he dressed, slowly buttoning up his shirt, closing his emotions back inside.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Hermione spoke quietly. ‘I understand you saved me. The only way you could. And I accept the cost of that action.’ She stood and crossed the floor to lay a hand on his forearm as she stepped in beside him. ‘I’m glad I get to help you.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I want to help you. You just need to tell me what to do.’

He looked down at her, her tone having coaxed his eyes to hers. He marveled at the young woman now standing beside him freely offering her support. ‘I can’t say I had thought this far ahead.’  
‘You haven’t planned for every contingency?’ Hermione quirked a brow at him as she teased him, knowing full well how impossible it had been for her to plan for every outcome possible when dealing with Harry and Ron, and they were teenaged boys, not a megalomaniac, homicidal non-human, or possibly semi-human psychopath. 

‘Unlike you, I do not always have a plan Zed.’ He let the small smile her teasing had drawn fall from his lips as he grew serious once more. ‘Honestly, I just wanted us both out of there alive. Beyond that.’ He shrugged then, ‘It was anyone’s guess.’ He turned to face her fully. ‘But I will sort it. I will have an answer for you.’

‘I believe you.’ She took a few steps away before turning back to face him. ‘And Severus?’

‘Yes?’ He completed the final button, his white shirt now fastened to almost his throat, his collar left deliberately open to offer a more relaxed version of the man to the buttoned to the throat Headmaster they all knew from outside his chambers.

‘I just wanted to say,’ She paused for a moment, her eyes closing for a second before she opened them and locked them on his. ‘Thank you for saving me.’ She dragged her teeth across her lower lip. ‘I’m sorry I was afraid. I’m sorry I doubted you. I shouldn’t have…’ her voice trailed off, her apology, though in her mind lacking made.

‘Think nothing of it.’ He smiled down at her as he stepped up beside her. ‘But perhaps we should follow into the lounge room, you know,’ he gestured in the direction the other two women had gone previously, ‘to save Lyublyu and Onyx.’

‘Don’t you mean save them from Lyublyu and Onyx?’ Hermione grinned as she glanced up at the man walking calmly beside her.

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I meant exactly what I said.’ He smiled widely, his eyes creasing in amusement. ‘Exactly as I said it.’ 

‘Are you teasing me?’ Minerva’s eyes narrowed as she watched a smiling Severus enter his lounge room.  
‘Why would you suspect that?’ Severus attempted to school his smile, failing terribly as his eyes landed on Minerva, seeing her matching smirk.   
‘Your face.’ She pointed out, her eyes still narrowed, her hands cupping the mug of tea she had summoned from the kitchen. Steaming mugs identical to hers waited on the coffee table in front of the couch she and Poppy currently occupied.

‘I was merely stating my concern for my cat.’ Severus schooled his face, kept his tone neutral.

‘You have a cat?’ Minerva let her curiosity get the better of her as her eyes darted about the room in search of the aforementioned cat.

‘He has a dog too.’ Hermione quipped as she dropped into the other couch.

‘Will wonders ever cease?’ Minerva grinned widely as a small dog bounded in from wherever it had been at the sound of her master’s voice. ‘The great bat of the dungeons has a fluffy little dog. If only the students knew…’

‘They will never find out.’ Severus narrowed his eyes at her as he straightened to his full height and folded his arms across his chest, ignoring the way Lyublyu leapt about his legs, jumping her front paws up onto his thighs in an attempt to gain a reaction from him.

‘That stopped being scary the minute I knew you had a lap dog.’ Minerva rolled her eyes.

‘So not when you saw him naked?’ Poppy nudged her in the ribs with her elbow.

‘Well that didn’t help his cause.’ Minerva turned to face her, completely ignoring the look Severus was shooting her. ‘Naked, fluffy dog or proud cat daddy.’ She barely contained the chuckle threatening to escape, her reign on the emotion shaking her mug slightly, the tea sloshing precariously over her lap. ‘It’s all much of a muchness really.’

‘Is that so?’ Severus crossed to stand directly over her, his expression stormy, his lips pulled tight as he tried his best to intimidate.

‘That is undeniably so.’ Minerva grinned up at him unperturbed. ‘Have a tea. Sit. Relax.’ She let the grin fall from her lips as she held his gaze. ‘I have an idea on that vow of yours. How we can break it.’

‘Do I want to know?’ He let the pretense of annoyance disappear as he reached down and picked up the two remaining mugs. He turned offering one to Hermione before he sat down on the opposite end of the couch to her. He took a large sip, his eyes closing as he savored the flavor and took stock of this new and interesting development; he now had allies. Ones he was so desperate to trust, to rely on. He truly hoped his gamble to confide in them would prove to pay off and not come back to bite him in the ass.

‘No,’ Minerva raised a brow. ‘But unlike you, and Albus,’ she spat the name, ‘I don’t hold back information or ideas.’

‘Another Gryffindor trait.’ Severus matched her expression, her tone.

‘Well if you’re going to be like that.’ She took a sip of her tea, watching him over the rim of the cup.

‘What did you want to tell me?’ He shook his head. ‘I took a vow. It prevents me from speaking of certain actions, moments, agreements.’ His eyes found a spot on the floor, his hands tightened around his mug. ‘Forgive me if I don’t immediately jump at the prospect of immense pain and death.’

‘Oh ye of little faith Laddie.’ Minerva tutted. ‘Think about it.’

‘I just did.’ It was Severus’ turn to roll his eyes.

‘And I thought Slytherin’s were notoriously patient.’ Poopy directed the comment towards where Hermione was sipping her tea, listening intently. She saw the younger woman smile despite herself.

‘Do tell.’ Severus barely withheld the sarcasm then. ‘How are we to circumvent Albus bloody Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, self-professed most powerful wizard in the world, leader of the Order of Phoenix, Deceased Headmaster of Hogwarts?’

‘We could get him to spell his name? Hermione giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

‘How do we get around his vow to end all vows?’ Severus ignored Hermione’s interjection, no matter how much he wanted to acknowledge just how pretentious his predecessors name really was.

‘What if you don’t tell me?’ Minerva let the insinuation hang.

‘We get no further ahead than we are now.’ Severus scoffed.

‘You daft man.’ She shook her head in disappointment at his narrow-minded refusal to see what she was suggesting. ‘What if you showed me?’

‘Showed you?’ His head tilted at that as he thought about her implication. ‘I tried to remove the memories, to use a pensive. They all cloud over.’

‘What if you didn’t remove them. What if you projected them to me?’ Minerva prodded.

‘Reverse Legilimency?’ His brow furrowed. ‘I’m not sure…’

‘Aren’t you a skilled Occlumens? Can’t you let me into your mind and show me what I need to see? You technically aren’t telling me.’ She nudged.

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his steepled fingers pressed against his lips as he thought. ‘The idea has some merit.’ He offered after a few moments of contemplative silence.

‘Only some?’ Minerva raised a brow as she looked at him, tired and worn opposite her.

‘Fine.’ He conceded, smiling gently. ‘Two points to Gryffindor.’

‘Only two?’ Minerva laughed then. ‘That is worth so much more than two.’

‘If it works.’ Severus returned her raised brow, his head tilted in challenge.

‘When it works.’ She nodded, adamant her plan would come to fruition and they would be one step closer to understand the inner workings of Albus’ plan. ‘So what happens now?’ Minerva spoke again after a moment, her concern now overshadowing her excitement at her possible solution as she watched him slump even further forward, his head resting heavily in his hands, his elbows still on his knees.

‘Right now?’ Right this very second?’ Severus quirked a brow in his Deputy’s direction, his head held up by his hands.

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘Right this very second.’

‘I need to sleep.’ Severus sighed. ‘I’m done pretending I’m ok. I’m not. I’m exhausted. Now is not the time to try your theory.’

‘You absorbed dark magic. It’s bound to take its toll.’ Poppy reminded him unnecessarily.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. ‘We should all rest when we can. We still have a war to fight.’ He made a show of grimacing. ‘And a school to run.’

‘Interesting it fell in that order Severus.’ Minerva shook her head. ‘You fear war less than running the school.’

‘Every day is a war here.’ He spoke quietly, his eyes dropping to where his hands had fallen to lay clasped in his lap. ‘At least the Dark Lord gives me an occasional day off.’


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

‘I’m sorry it has been difficult for you Severus.’ Minerva stood as she offered her apology. ‘And I’m sorry that I have contributed to it.’ She gestured towards the door. ‘So, to start my amends, to me helping rather than hindering I am going to take my leave.’ She turned her attention to Hermione then. ‘I am only an elf-call away. I wouldn’t recommend the floo, as I’m not always alone, but I can guarantee you that elf of his would be more than happy to bring me a message.’ She saw Severus smirk at that. ‘Or hold me accountable.’ She conceded at his expression.

‘That she would.’ He grinned wider at the thought, wishing he could have seen Minerva’s initial arrival into his rooms, her disorientation at her sudden removal from her own chambers, and in her pajamas no less.

‘I shall leave you to rest.’ She let her gaze shift between Hermione and Severus before she held out a hand to Poppy. ‘Shall we Leannan?’

‘I will wish you both a good night.’ Poppy stood, taking Minerva’s offered hand. ‘Severus,’ she directed a practiced patient gaze at her Headmaster, ‘you will rest. You both need to rest. Let your core heal after the dark magic.’

‘I think I liked it better when my wellbeing was generally ignored.’ He muttered earning himself a glare from both of the older women and a soft giggle from the younger one beside him. ‘I will endeavor to rest.’ He conceded then, his tone conciliatory.

‘Goodnight.’ Hermione spoke softly as she watched the other two women take their leave, closing the door behind them, shutting her in the rooms, leaving her alone with him once more.

Severus sat quietly waiting as she settled back into the sofa, shifting almost imperceptibly away from him, angling her body slightly, placing her shoulder and back more to his direction. He stood then and moved to sit on the other couch, giving her the room she had subconsciously needed. He saw her eyes widen as she realized exactly what she had done, and his response to it, to her accidental thoughtlessness.

‘I’m sorry.’ She blushed then. ‘I didn't mean for you to move. I didn’t realize… It’s going to take me a little to get used to this.’ Her voice trailed off then as she directed her eyes away from him, her cheeks flushing further with her admission.

‘I understand Little One.’ He spoke softly, his voice gentle, his expression schooled to keep his hurt invisible. ‘I truly do.’ He acknowledged, knowing full well that while he was hurt he couldn’t really fault her. She had done nothing wrong, her whole world had been turned upside down, her previously conceived notions of who the enemy was had been turned onto its head and that there would so obviously be a substantial period of adjustment required, for both of them.

‘Still.’ She smiled then, angling her body to fully face him once more. ‘You have been nothing but kind. You don't need me overreacting to absolutely nothing. You have enough going on without me making it worse.’

‘How are you feeling?’ He ran his eyes over her, taking stock, searching for any remnants or remaining injuries as he deflected her concern for his own wellbeing. 

‘I feel better.’ She spoke quietly, knowing exactly what he had done, how he had shifted the focus from himself once more as though he truly felt he was not worth considering.

‘Truthfully?’ He narrowed his eyes at her.

‘Yes. Truthfully. I do feel better.’ She smiled wider. ‘Thanks to you.’

‘And you will let time know if you need anything Hermione.’ He locked his eyes on hers, his expression serious. ‘No matter what it is.’

‘I don’t need…’ she started.

‘I know I told you before everything in these rooms is available to you.’ He interrupted continuing his point. ‘I want you to understand that I meant it. You have been thrown into a rather unusual and uncomfortable situation…’

‘So have you.’ She tried to force the issue, to point out that he was in the very same situation as she was, destined to share a space for an unforeseeable future. 

‘I made the choice.’ Severus interrupted her again, his tone leaving no room for argument. ‘And as such, we both have to deal with the fallout and consequences.’

‘I am a fall out?’ She smirked slightly at him, watching the way color rose on his cheeks as he momentarily misinterpreted her meaning, her teasing. She saw the exact second realization dawned, his shoulders tensed, his eyes narrowed further as he pressed his lips together.

‘That is not what I meant, and you know it, Miss Granger.’ His tone annoyed, reprimanding.

‘And now we are back to formalities Professor.’ She raised a brow at him, her smirk firmly in place.

‘Well, you're deliberately being obtuse now.’ He held his gaze locked on hers, waiting for her to back down. He was rewarded with another blush.

‘No,’ she shook her head then, ‘I’m just trying to lighten the situation.’ She swallowed as her eyes filled with tears, the smile slipping from her lips. ‘Otherwise, I’m not so sure I can manage this conversation.’

‘I realize it’s been a lot to take in.’ He nodded before slumping forward to rest his elbows on his knees. ‘For both of us.’ He clasped his hands together, his eyes lifting back to hers. ‘But it is what it is, and we just have to deal with it as best we can. So on that,’ He waited for some acknowledgement that she was completely listening to him.

‘Yes.’ She whispered.

‘Everything here is for you to use, the food in the kitchen, my books, obviously the bedding and furniture.’ He let the words sink in a little, watching her smile slightly as she registered the fact her had given her permission to use his books, his couch. ‘I’ll show you around my quarters completely tomorrow.’

‘There’s more?’ Hermione brought her eyes back to his.

‘Indeed.’ He held her gaze. ‘Hermione, if you need anything, you ask. If I’m not here Sage will be able to assist you.’ He paused for a second, watching her nod as she absorbed the information. ‘I had Sage retrieve your belongings from the Gryffindor Tower as soon as I brought you here. Your trunk is on the wall in the bedroom, your things exactly as you left them when you left Hogwarts for your holidays. I was relieved to find you had things here to be retrieved.’ He offered as a side note, his voice quiet, his eyes directed at the floor.

‘I didn’t know I wasn’t going to coming back when I left. I was looking forward to completing my final year.’ Her words trailed off as the gravity of the situation, the attack on Bill’s wedding, the traipsing about the wilderness in the Forest of Dean, her subsequent capture and torture at the manor, the loss of her final year of education, everything, it all seemed to come crashing down on her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she shook her head, bringing her focus back into the room, back to him. ‘I got distracted.’ She sniffed then, reigning in her emotions as she blinked back tears. ‘You were saying?’

‘You just have to ask.’ He darted his eyes to the floor to compose himself and then he lifted his gaze back to hers. ‘You do not have to wait for me to provide anything. But,’ his voice lowered slightly, his tone genuine. ‘I will give you anything you need or want. I promise you this Hermione.’ He nodded, breaking the eye contact then. ‘Your things are here, ready for you to use. You don’t have to keep wearing my shirt if you don’t want to.’

‘I forgot I was even wearing it.’ She glanced down at herself, smoothing the fabric over her stomach and thighs. ‘With everything else it seems insignificant.’ She paused again, blushing. ‘But it is rather personal isn’t. Sharing clothes.’

‘I didn’t think about it like that.’ The color rose in his cheeks. ‘I just wanted you comfortable. Covered. I didn’t think I just acted.’

‘That’s very Gryffindor of you Severus.’ She whispered then, her lips pulling into a soft smile as she began to tease the ever-consummate Slytherin.

‘Indeed.’ He quirked an eyebrow, enjoying her quick wit, her more relaxed mannerisms now that she had settled once more into his space, now that he had managed to tell her the most basic of information for their extended cohabitation. ‘Another of my many secrets.’

‘Indeed.’ She tilted her head, quirked her brow, her expression pure teasing now as she mimicked him completely.

‘And I see there is quite a bit of Slytherin in the Gryffindor Princess.’ He matched her smirk. ‘I wonder what Minerva would say?’

She openly grinned then, holding back a giggle as she took on her Professor’s Scottish brogue. ‘Her people invented Haggis, Severus, it would take a lot more to offend her delicate sensibilities.’ She let the giggle go then as she watched a grin of pure enjoyment spread across his features, his eyes lighting up, his lips spread wide, his teeth showing. 

He saw her reign in her laughter as her brow furrow in confusion. ‘I do smile and laugh. If and when its warranted.’ He kept his tone light, the smile still on his face.

‘I know,’ she narrowed her eyes as she looked harder at him, as she searched for the anomaly. ‘It’s your teeth. What have you done?’

‘My teeth?’ His brow furrowed to match her for a second before realization dawned. ‘The glamour has gone hasn't it?’

‘The glamour?’ She shook her head, her eyes still narrowed.

‘I have an image to uphold. Greasy. Unattractive. Thee evil great bat of the dungeons. Yellowed, crooked teeth only seemed fitting.’ He shrugged then. ‘I had them. As a child. Dental care was not the most important factor in our household budget, it fell somewhere under alcohol, cigarettes, weekly gambling…’ His voice trailed off, his eyes shifting to look into the hearth, to watch the fire so as not to see the pity or revulsion in her eyes.

‘I’m sorry.’ Hermione apologized out of force of habit, despite the fact that she had no control over his childhood, his youth.

‘Not your apology to make.’ He turned back and tilted his head as he appraised her. ‘You do that a lot, don’t you? Apologize for things beyond your control.’

‘It’s not the apology that matters, Sir, it’s the sentiment.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment afraid that he would not understand her reasoning, afraid that she had unwittingly offended him. ‘Everyone wants to be listen too. I know I can’t change your past, but I can listen, and I can sympathize.’

He smiled gently then at her explanation. ‘You may not have been able to fix it for me Hermione. But I did. With my very first pay check. I spent it all in one go.’ He nodded. ‘Fixing the very things I hated to see when I looked into a mirror.’ He shook his head as he recalled it. ‘You know the irony?’ He spoke quietly then, his tone dejected, his expression almost hurt. ‘Not one person even noticed. I was still just greasy pathetic Severus with the bad teeth, awful hygiene and the terrible clothes. That’s all anyone wanted to see.’

‘I never saw that.’ Hermione shook her head, realizing that by commenting on the change of his teeth she had clearly taken more notice than she had acknowledged. ‘I mean, I saw what you obviously wanted us to see, if you’re using glamours every day.’ She lifted her gaze and caught his, holding it, her expression sincere. ‘But for what it’s worth, I always thought you dressed impeccably. I never thought you were greasy or ugly or pathetic. I always thought you smelt really good too.’ She blushed again as she realized what she had just admitted in her rush to reassure him, to bolster his confidence and acknowledge the man she saw before her.

‘Then you would be the only one.’ He let her off, choosing to take the compliment and not read anything more into it than as it was meant.

‘I’m sorry no one noticed.’ She spoke quietly again, hoping her sentiments were not going to be ignored.

‘I noticed.’ Severus nodded at her tilted head. ‘I did it for me.’ He glanced at the fire. ‘Of course, it would have been nice for the effort to be acknowledged, but,’ he turned back to her ‘at the end of the day it was only truly important to me, and that is all that should matter.’

‘That is very wise.’ She nodded sagely. ‘Not easy to accept and live by, but wise words non-the-less.’ 

‘I have been known to know things occasionally.’ He smirked, his eyes kind, despite the teasing quirk of his upper lip.

‘I always appreciated your knowledge too.’ She looked away. ‘I admired you.’

‘You did?’ It was his turn to be shocked by her admission.

‘Right up until Professor Dumbledore died.’

‘Was murdered.’ He corrected, stating the generally held consensus.

‘I have a feeling there is more to it than that,’ Hermione stated, her voice even, ‘so my assessment stands. Until you tell me otherwise.’

‘I can’t.’ He offered, his voice regretful.

‘I know. The vow.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘You know I think Professor McGonagall is onto something.’ She smiled widely then. ‘So, I will amend my statement slightly. My assessment stands until you show me otherwise.’ She nodded then, adamant that he would do no such thing, that she was right, it had not been a murder, as there was no way the Severus Snape who was sitting opposite her, the man who had saved her, who had removed dark magic from her, who had shifted to allow her to feel comfortable could possibly murder anyone.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Severus stood, stretched slightly and then turned back to face his new roommate. ‘It’s been a very long day and I need to sleep. We both need to sleep. You need to rest to let your magical core repair itself.’ He glanced away from her, his eyes finding the flames, his voice dropping in volume. ‘And I just need today to be over.’

‘Okay?’ Hermione stood quietly as she watched him. ‘I don’t mind sleeping out here…’

‘No, Hermione.’ He shook his head, turning back to face her, his expression open, sincere. ‘I know, this is going to take some time to get used to, but we have to sleep and to do so effectively, the bed is the best option.’ He saw her catch the corner of her lower lip in her teeth as her brow furrowed. ‘I can assure you, I do not snore.’ He smiled then. ‘I don’t think anyway. I have never had anyone tell me otherwise.’

‘I’m not worried about snoring.’ Her eyes fell to the floor. ‘I haven't…’ she paused, not sure of exactly what she was trying to articulate. ‘I don’t…’ she shook her head. ‘Forget I even said anything.’

‘You’re worried about sleeping with me.’ It was a statement not a question, his expression and tone still kind and understanding.

‘I’ve never slept with anyone.’ She blurted out, her face flushing crimson with her admission. 

He smiled wider then, his eyes teasing, kind. ‘Actually, we slept together before.’ He shrugged. ‘Both of us were unconscious. But technically as we shared the space, it can still be counted.’

‘Oh.’ She nodded then. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

‘Hermione.’ He took a step towards her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as his eyes sort hers. ‘This is strange for me too.’

‘I know.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘I’m just…’

‘Me too.’ He matched her volume. ‘But the sooner we make the trek, get ready and climb into the bed, the easier it will become.’ He gestured towards the bedroom, the bed visible through the open door. ‘Shall we?’

‘I guess so.’ She nodded once more before stepping in the direction of the bedroom. ‘Yes.’ Once inside the door, she paused, uncertain. 

‘What do you need?’ Severus questioned as he watched her face.

‘I don’t really need anything.’ She shook her head, her eyes darting towards the open bathroom door. ‘But I would like a shower. If I may?’

‘You don’t need to ask Little One.’ He smiled at her, hoping to relieve her discomfort, her stresses. ‘Go, do what you wish. I will get ready for bed out here.’ He gestured back towards the lounge room. ‘Take all the time you need.’ He watched her nod once more in his direction before walking into the bathroom. He saw her glance once more in his direction before she closed the door. He turned and edited the bedroom, heading back to sit by the fire, while he waited for her to collect herself and get ready for bed.

\- - - - 

Closing the bathroom door behind her, Hermione leant on it for a moment. She took a deep breath, calming herself before she undressed and climbed into the shower. She tried to enjoy the warm water on her skin, but her brain, now alone, now not focused on her predicament, her new living, yet dead status, started to truly examine her last few days in her mind. She shuddered slightly as her mind processed the events. She had been hiding in the Forest of Dean, freezing, semi-starving, yet for all intents and purposes, relatively safe from immediate threat and imminent danger. Or so she had thought. That had all come crashing down with the arrival of the snatchers. She had then subsequently been captured, tortured, beaten and felt up. And then Severus Snape, previously perceived Evil Death Eater Headmaster of Hogwarts had rescued her. 

Turning to let the water run down her back, Hermione began let her mind wander to Severus then. He had rescued her. She pictured his piercing gaze that seemed to search her very core. The strength in him, both physical and mental. She closed her eyes against the glare from the light reflecting off the tiles of the shower stall, and stepped further back into the wonderfully warm water, trying to wash the remnants of her ordeal, imagined or otherwise, away from her tired and still slightly aching body. She turned her face into the stream of water, in an attempt to wash away the tears that had started to fall. She shook her head. She remembered being pinned to the floor as Bellatrix had carved into her arm, as Lucius toyed with her. She remembered slamming her eyes shut to block them from her vision, knowing that while she could not stop them, could not save her body, she could save herself the image of them torturing her, playing with her. She felt her back slide down the wall as her legs gave out from beneath her. She could no longer contain the sobs that erupted from her body. She could barely breathe. She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms about her legs and rested her head on her arms. The water beat down on her shoulders and the back of her head as her tears and her sobs were swallowed by the drain.  
\----  
Yawning widely, Severus cast a tempus and checked the time. It had been almost half an hour since Hermione had entered the bathroom. He was beginning to worry about her. Standing he made his way back into the bedroom and headed towards the bathroom door. He could still hear the water running in the bathroom. He knocked on the door. ‘Hermione?’ he called through it. He received no response. He opened the door slowly. ‘Hermione?’ He called louder this time, poking his head through the doorway. Still nothing. His brow furrowed, his concern now overshadowing his wish to respect her privacy. She can yell at me once I know she’s ok he thought as he stepped into the bathroom. He turned his body in the direction of the shower, of the running water and that’s when he located her. Through the steam he saw her huddled in the bottom of the shower cubicle, her arms wrapped around her drawn up knees, her head on her arms. He could see her shoulders shaking. He knew that meant she was crying, heavily if the violent movement of her shoulders was anything to go by. He opened the door and stepped into the spray. He felt the warm water hit his clothes, plastering his shirt and coat to his skin. He felt it trickle down his pants and pool into his boots. He didn’t care. His only thought was comforting the young woman in front of him. The woman whose crying threatened to break his own carefully maintained façade. He angled himself down, folding his body around hers, where she sat. He slid a knee under hers and delicately pulled her onto his lap. 

She resisted slightly as she felt him lift her, tightening her arms about her knees, and raising her head to look in his eyes. What she found staring back at her brought her undone again, her sobs returning to full force as she assessed the look he was giving her. She shook her head as he began to rock them gently back and forth, cradling her against him, whispering in her hair. She tried to stifle the sobs as she attempted to calm herself. She had to pull herself together for his sake. She moved slightly, trying to escape his embrace.

He felt her move and tightened his arms, pulling her more securely against his chest. He felt her shuddering as she tried to get control of her tears, her efforts evident in her ragged breathing. His thumb stroked gently down her forearm. He was determined not to let her go. He would not allow her to push him away. Not when she clearly needed someone. He would not let her go through this alone. He nuzzled her temple gently with his lips, until he felt her raise her head slightly. He opened his eyes and found her staring at him. The pain, the fear he saw in her eyes made him catch his breath. It made his very being ache for her. Reflexively he tightened his arms about her again. 

Satisfied she was calm enough to speak she looked at him again. ‘Oh Severus. Your clothes.’ She whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ He whispered back, his eyes soft, attempting to soothe her with his very expression.

She looked down at her feet. She noticed his shoes. ‘And your boots. They’re ruined.’ Her voice was stronger now.

‘They’re not important Little One.’ He kissed her temple. ‘You are.’ He saw her pale at his words, the tears welling in her eyes again, the fear creeping back into their depths. A tear tracked down her cheek. He wiped it with his thumb before wrapping his arm back around her shoulders. 

‘I can’t allow you to ruin your clothes. For me.’ She tried to sound forceful, adamant. Her voice only wavering on the last words.

‘I will not let you do this alone.’ He was equally forceful. ‘I am here for you.’ He met her eyes again. ‘Do you understand me?’

‘I don’t need’ she paused, gathering her thoughts ‘I don’t want…’ 

He interrupted her then. ‘Do you understand me? I am not leaving you alone. And nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind.’ He ran a finger down the side of her face gently.

She looked away as her tears started fresh. ‘I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t want you to hate me even more now…’ She choked out before her tears got the better of her, her body shaking so violently against his. 

The torment in her cries nearly tearing him to pieces, ripping out his heart piece by piece with every sob, every tear. He felt his own eyes well up as he contemplated the terrible things that had happened to her, the possible reasons she could have to fear his hatred, knowing that he had directly been the cause of those fears. He felt the tears spill from his eyes and mingle with the now lukewarm water that streamed over them. How could he ever hate her? He had never truly hated her. 

He waited until he felt her relax against him, before he risked speaking to her again. As she released a shaky breath, he angled her face to his. He knew she saw his own red eyes, the evidence of his own tears. Her eyes welled up again. ‘It’s okay Little One.’ He smiled gently. 

‘You’re…’ she swallowed at his raised brow.

‘Not as tough and as uncaring or emotionally stunted as everyone thinks?’ he stated, his voice soft, his attempt to ease her working as he saw the tears clear as she blinked. He turned his voice serious now she was calm, resting quietly in his arms. ‘Hermione, why would I hate you?’ he spoke softly, keeping the question as light as he could.

She shook her head slightly. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ The pain was evident in her voice.

He swallowed and kept his eyes on hers. ‘Yes it does. You can tell me anything. Anything.’ He paused, ensuring she was listening to him, that she was taking in his expression as well as his words. ‘And I could never hate you.’ His voice was gentle, his thumbs stroking her arms once more. ‘I have never hated you. I did what I was expected to do. But I never hated you. I could never hate you.’

‘Yes. You will.’ She blinked again, clearing her eyes of the tears that had started to fall. ‘I’m terribly antisocial. My hair will be everywhere, all over your things. You won’t have any privacy or space. I’m an insufferable know-it-all.’ She hiccupped then, trying to slow the words that had all sped up and run together. ‘And I don’t even know if I snore…’

Her voice trailed off as she balked at the expression she saw when she refocused her eyes on his. Her sharp intake of breath was enough for him to know she had seen the openness, the honesty and the kindness he had directed at her. 

‘No. I couldn’t’ he stated calmly. ‘You are sweet and kind and have always been unfailingly honest with me. I don’t hate you. And even if you did snore,’ he smiled gently then, ‘I couldn’t hate you.’

She looked up at him, her large brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘You couldn’t?’ She whispered. ‘’Do you really mean that?’

‘I do.’ He nodded once, his voice adamant.

‘So many people hate me already.’ She shook her head, her eyes dropping to where her hand had curled into his frock coat. ‘I never understood why? I try not to do anything bad to anybody. But I don’t understand. I don’t even know the Death Eaters. And they all hate me.’

‘Because they’re told too Hermione.’ He stated evenly, his voice filled with such distaste. ‘By someone they fear more.’

‘So were you.’ She risked a glance up at him, noticing his tight jaw, his narrowed eyes. 

He softened his expression when he realized she was looking at him determined not to have her misinterpret his hatred of his fellow Death Eaters, of the Dark lord and his indoctrinated mistreatment and encouraged genocide of Muggles, as an emotion directed at her. He let a smile touch his mouth once more, his eyes finding hers. ‘Yes, but I knew better.’

‘I couldn’t stop what was happening.’ She whispered then. ‘I couldn’t make them understand. Make them see that I’m not a threat, I’m not to be hated.’ Her throat choked closed. ‘I couldn’t make them go away. I couldn’t make them stop.’ Her words all ran together. Her eyes welled with tears again. ‘And then they did. And I was given to you.’ Her eyes held onto his, dark and tormented. ‘And I was terrified. Irrationally so.’ She searched his eyes for hatred, for anger. She saw the complete opposite. ‘Did you hear me?’ she questioned. ‘Even after Bellatrix and Lucius. Despite of maybe because of everything I had ever seen of you at school. I don’t know. It was you who terrified me most. I didn’t want you to hurt me. I didn’t want to be proved wrong, that my faith in you as an agent for the side of light was wrong. I had heard stories of revels. And torture. And for that moment, when you started on me.’ She swallowed, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. ‘I thought that was who you were. And I’m sorry.’ Tears welled in his eyes once more. She saw them and choked back a sob. ‘I’m so sorry Severus. It was unfair.’ She whispered, looking down away from him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He pulled her tighter to him, and used his free hand to direct her eyes back to his. ‘Oh Little One. I understand. Fear and pain make even the most rational person irrational.’ His voice caught. ‘If I could have gotten there quicker.’ He pushed her wet hair away from her face. 

‘All the what ifs in the world won’t change the fact that I doubted you and feared you and you saved me anyway.’ She touched a hand to his cheek. ‘I don’t think I would have survived without you.’ She shook her head. ‘I wouldn't have survived without you.’ She stopped, sensing his eyes on hers again.

‘Hermione.’ He paused, for effect, directing the most gentle, caring expression he could her way. ‘I’m so very glad you survived the attack. I glad that I was able to help you. That you were gifted to me so I had the opportunity to save you.’ He drew his thumb gently across her cheek. ‘What happened to you was horrific and if I eased that suffering even in the smallest possible way, then I’m glad.’

She searched his gaze. ‘And you don’t hate me?’

The question pulled at his heart. ‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘I do not nor will I ever hate you.’ 

He smiled at her then, the expression warming her heart. He really didn’t hate her. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she suddenly became acutely aware of how close he was to her; his face inches from hers, his arms wrapped around her body as he held her on his lap. She licked her lips. She placed a hand on his chest. She bit her lower lip as her breathing increased.

He saw the sudden change. He saw the pulse quicken in her throat. He felt her stiffen as she placed a hand on his chest. ‘Hermione?’ the question evident in his voice, his concern outweighing the cold feeling creeping in as the water cooled about them.

‘Severus. I have to get out.’ She tried to pull away from him. She glanced down quickly and blushed as if realizing for the first time she was naked and he was not. ‘I’ve got to get out of here. Now.’ Panic laced her voice. 

‘It’s ok. I got you.’

‘I’m very aware of that at this particular moment.’ She darted her eyes about the cubicle, anywhere but at his. ‘I really need you not to have me.’ She pushed on his chest again. ‘You have to let go.’ 

At the obvious desperation in her voice he stood, dragging her body up with him. He shut off the water, opened the shower stall door and stepped them both out onto the mat. He reached around her for the towel hanging on the rack and handed it to her. Once satisfied she was covered, he stepped away. He pulled the shirt from his skin.

‘Severus. What are you doing?’ He could hear the panic in her voice.

‘Getting these wet clothes off.’ He kept his voice even, his tone calm.

‘Here?’ she however was almost beside herself.

‘Yes. That had been my plan.’ He watched her as her eyes darted around the bathroom, looking everywhere but at him. 

‘I don’t want…’ She took a few steps towards the door. ‘I can’t…’

He caught her as she passed, his hands on her upper arms. He held her rigid, her body slightly away from his. ‘I’m not going to do anything to you.’ He attempted to reassure her. He saw her eyes widen as realization dawned.

‘And I did it again. I panicked.’ Her body slumped in his grip. ‘I thought the worst.’ She shook her head, her eyes dropping to the floor. ‘Maybe you should have just killed me.’ She whispered.

He placed a finger under her chin and angled her face to his. ‘This will get easier. I promise.’ He held her gaze. ‘Now, you go in there and get ready for bed. I will wait here.’

‘You’ll get cold.’ She interrupted.

He smirked then and with a flick of his wrist he summoned his sleep pants. ‘I will get dressed for bed in here while you get organized out there.’ He pushed her gently from the room, his hand coming to grab the handle as he prepared to close the door and offer her some privacy. ‘Knock on the door when you’re ready.’ He quirked a brow, then smiling. ‘Oh and Miss Granger,’ he reverted to formalities as he teased her. ‘I will be shirtless when I come out of here.’ He closed the door, chuckling quietly to himself as he recalled her blush at his words, his warning, his threat.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Severus woke slowly, stretching out his entire body, listening to the little pops and cracks he felt as he clenched his toes and elongated his spine. He blinked his eyes open letting them adjust to the early morning light creeping in through the windows surrounding his new tower quarters, the perks of being Headmaster now, a room with a view, hell a room with a window, even onto one of the external castle walls was a step up from his dungeon chambers. His mind drifted, listening for the sounds of the school, the old castle shifting on its foundations, as though it too was waking up to a brand new day. He could hear the ley lines settling, the castle taking stock of its responsibility, the sentient structure reporting its surroundings, the comings and goings of all inhabitants of the castle grounds, elf, human, animal alike; just another perk of being Headmaster, but one Severus took seriously, knowing all was well in his domain and then occluding out the castle unless he needed to find someone urgently. 

As he pushed the ‘roll call’ to the back of his mind his attention wandered to his chambers. He could hear shallow breathing coming from very close to his head, he could feel the press of a warm body flush against him, the sound of snoring, loud, ear-drum bursting snoring echoing off the stone walls. He felt his lips pull into a smile, a rare facial contortion for so early in the day on a school day no less, as he rolled to face the owner of the snore, determined to wake her and tell her immediately that she did indeed snore, hoping she would see the humor in his statement as he answered one of the questions she had posed last night.

He shifted carefully so as not to jostle his new co-occupant of his bed, it had taken long enough to get her to settle, to be comfortable enough to let her body rest as it was. So, instead of waking her with the snoring revelation, he was going to watch, listen and then push the memory onto her when she was awake enough to appreciate the irony. Settling on his side, he felt his smile widen as he took in the true extent of his bed-fellow, or bedfellows if he counted the cat and the dog. 

Hermione lay on her back, a hand resting on the pillow beside her head. Her face was turned in his direction, her expression peaceful, her chest rising and falling evenly under the sheet as she slept on unaware that Onyx was resting on the pillow between them, her furry body wrapped around Hermione’s hand. His eyes ran down the length of the bed, taking note of her relaxed open position, her body comfortably sprawled on her side of his bed and not on the very far edge as she had positioned herself last night. 

He remembered her knock on the bathroom to let him know she was decent and ready for bed. He had watched her walk, somewhat reluctantly, her posture stiff as she approached the end of the bed. He had smirked as she had asked him which side he preferred, her expression priceless when he had responded the middle. He had put her out of her misery then, settling himself on the right-hand side, his back against the headboard as he sat, watching, waiting for her to make her next move. He saw her eyes move over his face before dropping to study his bare chest for a long moment, a blush coloring her skin as she realized, blinked and darted around the side of the bed. 

He remembered watching her sit primly, her hands in her lap, her eyes directed straight forward, at anything but him. He remembered how her eyes shifting to look at him every so often as she waited for him to finish marking, as though she were reluctant to lie down flat while he loomed, still seated above her regardless that he was on his own side of the bed with no interest in making a move towards her. He could still remember too the way her eyes had widened comically when he had put on his glasses, the small back frames drawing her interest as she tried to disguise her curiosity, the way her eyes were drawn to him constantly. 

He had enjoyed that game, her watching him as he pretended to ignore her, all the while monitoring the way her eyes grew heavy, the way her body slid further down the mattress to burrow under the sheets, her blinks growing longer until she was sound asleep beside him, her breathing evening out, the tension leaving her as her body relaxed. It was only then that he succumbed to his own fatigue, his glasses left lying on the chair beside the bed, his marking banished to his desk in the lounge room as he too lay down, stretched out and let the day fall away as he slipped into unconsciousness, his mind vaguely aware of her warm presence beside him.

He smiled then as he watched her move slightly in her sleep, her brow furrowing as her hand clenched, the furry body of his cat wrapped about her fingers an anomaly her sleeping brain could not process. He continued his perusal of their sleeping arrangement as his eyes panned further down the bed, finally landing on the warm body pressed intimately against his thigh. Lyublyu lay flat on her back, her legs in the air, her chest rising and falling with each unearthly snore her tiny body emit in her peacefully slumber. He smiled softly as his hand found her little belly, his fingers tickling as he tried to gently wake the animal.

‘And here I thought you didn’t snore.’ Her voice, strained from sleep, husky, broke into his thoughts. 

He lifted his eyes to find hers watching him closely. ‘And to think I was going to say the very same thing to you.’ He quirked an eyebrow at her. 

‘I think I would die if I ever sounded like that.’ Hermione spoke quietly, sliding to sit up, her hand pressing down into the soft fur, Onyx mrowing in protest of the awakening. ‘I’m sorry Onyx. Unlike Lyublyu, you were so quiet I didn’t even know you were there.’ She spoke to the cat then, stroking her fingers across its head.

‘Yes, you were not awake to enjoy the 3am tail chasing ruckus.’ Severus smirked, still lying on his side, his head propped on his fist, his elbow on the bed as his free hand still stroked the dog, Lyublyu now awake, her tail wagging, her tongue lolling out to catch his hand as she wiggled under his palm.

‘She did that?’ Hermione locked her gaze on his for a second before turning back to the cat. ‘You wouldn’t do that would you?’ She smiled as she heard him scoff.

‘I’ll be certain to wake you for it. It is a nightly occurrence after all.’ He sat up then, the sheet falling away to reveal his chest. He watched as her eyes followed the fabric. He saw the blush color her cheeks. He smirked to himself, wondering just when she would stop reacting to his semi-naked body, to when she would accept that he was a man, an ordinary man who happened to sleep shirtless. He certainly did not blush or avert his eyes when she had wandered across the room in her teal shorts and her pink and teal sleep tank top, her tanned legs appearing longer, a strip of skin on her abdomen visible. He had contained his response to having a female in his rooms. 

He smirked again, admitting to himself that he had indeed ‘outwardly’ contained his response. Inwardly, he was reeling as he came to the discovery that young Miss Granger was neither young nor unshapely no more. He had schooled his features as he took stock of her gentle curves, the swell of her breasts, the age and maturity in her face. She was no longer the gangly eleven-year-old muggle born desperately trying to prove herself in a world she had not experienced and did not understand. She was now a beautiful young woman, condemned to haunt his chambers, torturing him, for as he reconciled he was only a man, and he could only be taunted so far before he was forced to concede and acknowledge his desire to simply appreciate her. 

So yes, he would look and he would appreciate, he decided. He would engage with her intellectually, spark her enthusiasm and encourage her in any way he could. But he would, under no uncertain terms touch her, inappropriately or otherwise. He would be careful to treat her with politeness and consideration. He would be, despite the rumors, the gentlemen he always strived to be; respectful, thoughtful, attentive and above all kind.

With that decision made he rolled from the bed, coming to stand in one fluid cat-like movement beside the bed. He turned slightly to face her, his expression amused as he took in her surprise at his agility. ‘Yes?’ he raised a questioning brow.

‘I never took you for a morning person.’ She spoke quietly once more, her eyes still not quite focused on him. 

‘And why would you presume to know anything about me, morning or otherwise?’ He pushed, his tone teasing, his expression, if she was brave enough to peek just the same.

‘It’s just,’ she paused as she looked up, her eyes finding his. ‘You were never cheerful, or well, any other emotion other than annoyed or pissed really.’ She blushed then at her bluntness, her eyes darting away once more.

Severus laughed then; the sound warm, rich gaining her attention once more. ‘I did what I had to. To maintain the cover of the most hated teacher, nasty bastard to the nth degree.’

‘So everything was an act?’ She narrowed her eyes at him then.

He grinned wider. ‘Well, not everything.’ He turned away before heading across the room towards the cupboard. ‘Your little friends did annoy me to no end, with their petty recklessness and oft stupidity.’ He shot over his shoulder as he opened the cupboard door. He chuckled softly as he heard her mutter under her breath, unable to make out her words entirely, her tone a dead giveaway that she perhaps shared his summation of her two best friend’s attitudes in class. ‘But I do not wish to see them harmed.’ He stated solemnly, once she had ceased her mutterings.

‘I don’t want anybody hurt.’ Hermione added, her tone matching his sudden change. ‘It’s all so pointless.’

‘Indeed.’ He responded before turning back to face her, his clothes in his hands. ‘Please, stay. Rest. While I have to attend the Great Hall of judgement for a full breakfast of discomfort, you do not.’ He headed towards the bathroom, preparing to dress himself for the day. ‘I won’t be long.’ He stated as he closed the door behind him leaving her still seated in bed, his cat sprawled comfortably on the pillow, his dog laying across her legs in a desperate attempt for attention.

Hermione felt her brow furrow as she stared at the closed bathroom door. She had not been blind to him as he selected his clothes, black on black with just a hint of white in his dress shirt. She had seen the scars knotted into his back, the play of the muscles as he lifted each item of clothing from the hangers. He had been more sculpted, more perfectly defined than she had previously taken notice of. She could recall the scars from the first time she had seen him bare-chested, but the definition of his muscles, the smoothness of his pale skin, the smattering of black hair on his pectorals and abdomen was now all that she could envisage as she thought of him. Gone was the Headmaster, the Death Eater, buttoned tightly to the throat, replaced with the very essence of real flesh and blood man. Flawed but still so very perfectly formed. 

She swallowed as she realized she had always thought him older than he truly was; his dark eyes often framed by lines, his heavy brow always creased, his lips thinned and tight as he ‘suffered’ through class. What she had seen this morning was quite the juxtaposition from that of the Potions Professor; his smile, the way his eyes danced as he teased her, his relaxed open friendly nature de-aging him considerably. She shook her head then as the realization dawned; that everything about the man she had woken up with was so strangely comforting and appealing. That despite the situation, she felt safe. And that just left her feeling more discombobulated. Why, after only such a short time did she feel secure? Why was she so ready to let her fear go? Why was she drawn to Severus the man she saw in his chambers, when she had spent years respecting but fearing the Professor in class? 

She ran a hand through her hair as she tried to center her thoughts. She caught her lip between her teeth, her action frozen as the bathroom door reopened, the buttoned in Headmaster, devoid of emotion reentering the room. She swallowed, her eyes wide as she took him in, amazed at how the outfit changed everything about him, how the copious buttons closed not only his attire but his whole demeanor. 

He saw her expression as he stepped from the room. He knew his appearance had unsettled her. It unsettled him every time he buttoned Severus away for the day. He walked slowly to the bed, his eyes holding hers captive as he locked his gaze on hers, his expression unfathomable as he drew closer. He stopped right next to her, his eyes still on hers. ‘Is there a problem?’ His voice was quiet now, reserved, so very like the timbre he chose to teach in, the one that made you strain to hear everything he as saying and everything he was not. 

She unconsciously sat forward, before jerking her body away. ‘It’s an act.’ She saw his brow raise, but his expression other than that did not alter. ‘Your frock coat and robes. It’s your armor.’

‘Indeed.’ He nodded once, before letting his eyes soften. ‘It is necessary. To separate the Headmaster from the man.’ He smiled gently, the expression somewhat out of place amongst the blackness, the formality of his appearance. ‘But I promise you it comes off as soon as I am in here. I will not be Headmaster Snape in here.’

She returned the nod. ‘I know.’ She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip before continuing. ‘I believe you.’ She nodded once more. ‘And I trust you.’ She reached a hand out and lay her palm onto his sleeve, catching him as he began to turn away. She held him still. ‘Severus,’ she waited for him to turn back to face her, her hand still on his robes, previously untouchable. ‘Be careful.’

‘I will return as soon as I can.’ He dismissed her concern gently before stepping from her touch and heading out the door to meet whatever hell Hogwarts had instore for him that day.

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AN// To the people who read and enjoy, follow and review - I truly appreciate your patronage. I adore reviews that are constructive. I also love reading your theories, suggestions and ideas. To those of you who are enjoying the story. I thank you wholeheartedly.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Severus smoothed his hands over the front of his frock coat as he took a deep breath and stood taller, elongating his frame, making the most of his 5’9/175cm height, his robes bulking his shoulders to make him appear even larger, more imposing. He schooled his features as he reached a hand and grasped the door handle. With a shove, he threw the heavy door open and made his entrance. He strode through the door, his steps deliberately heavy, echoing with each fall of his boot onto the stone floor, his eyes scanning across the class, daring them to react to his presence. He marched down through the center of the desks, his steps, though loud and forceful, measured, paced to give him ample opportunity to make eye contact with every single student in the Gryffindor/Slytherin Potions Class. He took the final two steps up onto the Dias before spinning, his robes billowing around him, to face his audience. With a flick of his wrist the door slammed closed and locked shut, holding them captive. He kept the look of distasteful disinterest on his face as his lips pulled into a sneer, his eyes instantly drawn to the front row, to where the bane of his existence sat, conversing in hushed whispers. He felt his eyes narrow as he caught the tail end of the statement, Potter’s words trailing off as he became aware of being watched. ‘I can assure you Potter,’ he spat ‘that I am as thrilled to be here as you are to have me.’ His tone biting.

‘Then why are you here?’ Harry straightened, his eyes angry as he sized up the Headmaster, his apparent substitute Potions Professor for the lesson. 

‘With Professor Slughorn detained.’ Severus stated, his tone now bored, his expression to match. ‘It has fallen to me to see to this lesson.’

‘How are you even allowed to be here?’ Harry continued, the murmurs of the Gryffindors encouraging, spurring him on as he challenged their professor. ‘I thought there was a law to prevent murders from teaching in schools.’

‘It all depends on who is making that decree.’ Severus raised a brow before turning away from Potter, having seen the way the boy’s face flushed red, his eyes narrowed further at the dismissal of his claim, at the reminder that the Ministry had fallen and was now under the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters’ control.

‘But you killed Hermio…’

‘Enough.’ Severus spun back, interrupting his tirade, his face a mask of fury, his jaw tight, his teeth clenched. ‘Unless you want a similar fate to your little friend,’ he spat out the word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth, ‘I suggest you open to page forty-four and get on with the lesson.’ He turned then, keeping his eyes directed at the board as the instructions, the ingredient appeared, as he used the distraction of annotating what they could read for themselves to calm his anger, his hurt and his frustration. He listened for the telltale turn of pages, scraping of chairs as the students stood, grumbling as they shifted to collect the items necessary to brew the basic healing salve he had prescribed, the choice strategic knowing what was to come and how many of Dumbledore’s Army were in the class to benefit.

As the class grew quiet once more, Severus shifted to lean against the front of the desk, his eyes scanning the class, the students, his mind open for any hint of diversion or insurrection. Satisfied his glare was not going to waste he folded his arms over his chest, sat taller and proceeded to embody the very epitome of bored.

Harry sat back, his eyes wandering across his ingredients once more. His potion was a sickly yellow, the bubbles struggling to break through the gluggy surface. The smell emanating was gag-worthy. He smiled at his handiwork. 

Neville Longbottom let his eyes drift to Harry’s cauldron. His eyes narrowed. This was the first time he had seen Harry fail at brewing this whole year, the potion in front of his friend very clearly not the mauve as described in the text. He leant closer to see just what was going wrong, knowing that was the type of thing Hermione would have done for him had she been still here. He pulled back quickly, a sharp in-breath accompanying his action as the fumes stung his eyes.

Ginny raised her eyes from where she had been concentrating on chopping her asphodelus leaves, her knife pausing in its slice as her gaze caught Neville’s, his inhale having caught her attention. She leaned closer to Harry, her lips almost brushing his ear. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Everything I can to teach this bastard a lesson.’ He whispered back as he grabbed a pinch of her sliced leaves and prepared to drop them into the cauldron. He smirked slightly as Ginny’s eye brow raised in question. He straightened, standing taller, his hand poised, ingredients ready.

‘Do you have a death wish?’ Ginny whispered, her expression concerned, her body tensed to react, to move as the realization of what Harry had planned dawned.

‘Yes.’ He grinned wider. ‘His.’ 

Ginny took a step forwards, her eyes drawn to the cauldron as Harry released the leaves, watching as they dropped in seemingly slow motion into the brew. Immediately the vacuous liquid popped, letting out a loud hiss as the color darkened, shifting from sludge-yellow/brown through something only described as vomit to an end result of pitch tar black. Bubbles burst around the edges where the liquid met the steel, vapors rising, swirling upwards to engulf the table in fumes

The loud hiss, not expected for a healing potion drew Severus’ attention from skimming the thoughts of the students in front of him to the goings on the room. A black vapor had grown, blocking the three Gryffindors from view, the smell now prevalent in the air alerting him to fact that a disaster was waiting to happen. His eyes narrowed as Harry’s disembodied voice called to him for assistance. He stood and in two steps closed the distance, his body coming between the cauldron and the students, his hand slamming down onto where Harry was lifting another handful of asphodelus leaves preparing to add them to his deadly concoction. ‘Stop.’ He ground out as he pushed Harry backwards, away from the table. ‘Do you know what you’ve done.’ It was a statement, not a question.

His head shot up, his eyes scanning the room. ‘Get out.’ He yelled, his voice loud, startling in the otherwise silent classroom. ‘Get out.’ He repeated, his voice more urgent this time as the cauldron began steaming, the liquid swelling to erupt over the side and leak out onto the table, the wood melting wherever it landed. He watched, relieved as the Slytheryn’s took heed of his warning and scrambled from the room. The seconds the Gryffindors took to respond, to realize the danger they were now placed in had the potion suck down into the base of the cauldron before exploding out with such force.

A wandless shield encased the students fleeing the room, Neville and Harry at the rear of the rush to egress. Only Ginerva, closest to him had been unable to escape the radius of the blast that engulfed them both. Severus spun, dragging her bodily to him as he enfolded her into his robes, protecting her from the full impact of the blast.

Neville spun at the ungodly noise behind him in time to see Snape tuck Ginny into his robes. He saw the shimmer separating the class from the Headmaster and his friend. He knew it was a shield charm yet the incantation had not been spoken. His head tilted as he watched their despised Death Eater Headmaster protect his friend, harry’s girlfriend. He tried to gain Harry’s attention, his hand grasping for him but catching nothing. He glanced quickly to where Harry had been. He and Ron were nowhere to be seen. He spun back to watch Snape and Ginny, to wait for the danger to pass, to see if Ginny would be released unharmed. He heard coughing, dimmed by the shield but clear, the rattle in the chest frightening.

Ginny gasped as she was crushed into the body of her Headmaster, his arms wrapped around her, her face pressed into his chest. She placed her hands on his chest and shoved, trying to free herself, her actions coming to a halt as his arms tightened, as his voice, strained and raspy entered her ear, telling her to stop fighting, don’t resist. She was certain she had heard the word please as he held her still. She tried to take a deep breath, to fight against the coughs shaking her frame, her eyes watering, her throat closing over as vapors burned, fumes she knew were completely engulfing him. She risked a glance up, her eyes alarmed as she watched him open his mouth. She felt his chest rise against her as he took a huge breath. She watched as the vapors sucked into him, disappearing from the air about her. She felt her throat relax as the poisonous gases were removed. By her Death Eater evil Headmaster. To save the students. To save her. 

She felt his arms release their hold, saw them fall loosely to his sides as she stepped back from his embrace. She watched as his eyes rolled slightly before he blinked and focused to look down at her, his dark gaze finding hers. She saw the gash on his temple, the trickle of blood that severed this eyebrow. She could see the holes in his robes now, his skin bubbling and blistering where ever the potion had touched him. She knew it had not made contact with her in any way. Because of him. Because, as she looked at him now, he had placed his body in a position to take and absorb the brunt of the attack. Harry’s attack.

‘Ginny’ Neville screamed, watching as she took a shaky step backwards. He saw her turn to face him for a second. He could see she was unharmed. He exhaled in relief, knowing she was fine.

Ginny saw Neville, his body distorted through the golden shimmer of a shield charm. She felt her head tilt, her brow furrow as she slowly turned back to face Severus Snape, Death Eater and Headmaster, Voldemort’s Lieutenant, his second in command. She watched him stagger backwards before righting himself, locking his knees as though despite the circumstances, his injuries he refused to appear weakened. She shook her head, her eyes raking over him, his cuts, bruises, the deathly pale color of his face, the sweat on his upper lip, his brow. He had cast a shield over the students, protecting them. Even the ones plotting to conspire against him, the one to cause the whole incident in the first place. Yet with one simple motion he could have saved himself the pain, the injury and cast that shield over himself, she realized. She raised her eyes to catch his once more.

‘Are you okay Miss Weasley?’ He enquired before she could address him. He saw her eyes widen for a second before she controlled her surprise.

‘Yes.’ Ginny spoke quietly. She saw an expression she could only describe as relief flit across his features. 

‘Good.’ His voice strained now reached her a split second before his body seemed to give out on him. His eyes rolled backwards, his body grew limp as he collapsed into a boneless heap, sinking to his knees before completing the fall to the floor.

Ginny took a step in the direction he had fallen before Neville’s voice caught her attention. She felt his hand land on her arm as he stepped up to join her, Snape’s shield charm disintegrating as his hold on consciousness slipped. They glanced around the room, taking stock of the devastation; The cauldron was melted into the remnants of the table, holes surrounding it, evidence of the unholy occurrence Harry had created. A lingering scent of burning flesh, of sulfur mingled in the now otherwise clear air, all evidence of the incident almost erased. They both then looked down to where Snape had collapsed onto the hard stone floor. ‘Holy shit. Harry did it.’ Ginny whispered, her eyes wide.

‘I don’t know.’ Neville shook his head once more, his tone hesitant.

‘Look at him. Harry killed him.’ She took a step closer to Snape’s fallen body before pushing him gently with her foot. He failed to respond.

‘This feels very wrong Gin.’ Neville took a step backwards. 

Ginny took another step backward, edging closer to the door and further away from their fallen Headmaster. ‘I know. I don’t feel right about this. About him at all.’


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

‘I don’t think we should be here.’ Ginny whispered, her eyes darting from the man crumpled on the floor to the young man beside her, her eyes wide, her expression distraught.

‘I don’t think we should leave him.’ Neville shook his head. ‘We can’t just leave him here.’

‘And what the hell do you suggest we do?’ Ginny grabbed Neville’s arm and dragged him towards the door, toward where every other student that had been present had escaped, not daring to glance backward as they were expelled from the room. ‘I can’t even begin to explain what happened.’

‘It looked like Harry tried to kill Snape.’ Neville let his voice drop back to almost a whisper. ‘And it looked like Snape then saved everyone.’ He shrugged, his eyes falling to look at their Headmaster once more. ‘Nothing makes sense anymore Gin. I don’t know what to do.’

‘The only thing we can do is NOT stay here.’ She dragged on his arm again, pulling him towards the door. ‘We have to find Harry. And then we can decide.’

Neville took a step, relaxing his stance, letting Ginny pull him towards the door. They had only made it halfway from the front of the room, from where Snape had fallen before the ground shook, the castle foundations letting out a loud tortured groan. They came to a halt as the castle settled around them, the earthquake sensation disappearing as suddenly as it came, a small pop signaling the arrival of a house elf.

‘You is bad. You is hurting MY Severus. You has no right.’ It screeched, pointing a long finger in their direction, its tone accusing, menacing, its eyes narrowed as it glared, the accusation more than clear. After a second it disappeared once more, its unimpressed gaze the last thing to fade from view.  
////  
Minerva’s head snapped up as the castle let out a groan, as the very foundations shuddered. If she was in cat-form, her whiskers would be quivering at the subtle but distinct shift in the air. Something of importance had happened. Something unavoidable had changed. Something, she could feel, the castle would not, did not condone. She stood, sliding her chair backwards from the desk as she prepared to investigate the strange occurrence. She took two steps towards the door before a pop signaled a simultaneous arrival and departure from her chambers. She felt a cold hand wrap around her wrist, the long fingers vice-like, the tug of apparition before she registered the fact that she was no longer in her classroom. She let out a gasp as she landed heavily, her eyes darting around the stone walls, an acrid smell of burnt flesh, of poison tainting the air where she now stood. She turned quickly, her eyes darting across the dais, her back to the door as she tried to see just who had moved her from her classroom and deposited her here, in the dungeon’s potion classroom she assumed by the vials and jars of ingredients lining the walls. She found no one. She was alone, her sudden relocation remaining a mystery even now. 

She let her eyes linger across the space this time, searching for a reason she could possibly have been brought here. Her hand shot to her chest, her palm to her heart as she finally discovered the reason for her summoning. Severus Snape, or a pile of his robes lay crumpled on the floor, towards the front, hidden by a partially destroyed bench. ‘What in the world..?’ Her voice trailed off as the severity of the situation dawned; the smell, the blackened rafters, the destroyed furniture, the most impermeable man she knew lying injured or dead on the abandoned classroom floor. She closed the distance in two strides, dropping to one knee as her hand reached for where his throat should be.  
////  
Poppy Pompey had just finalized the last chart. Her morning had been rather uninspiring, and after the last few weeks of constant vigilance, sprees of unprovoked torture and needless inter-house violent rivalry, she was not complaining; a broken arm, reset and regrown after a fall from a broom in a first year flying lesson, a bloody nose a result of a run in during Magical Creatures and a headache brought on through assessment task avoidance were all par of the course and fairly mundane in a magical school filled with melodramatic teenagers. She sighed, stretching, wondering just when she had started to see the maladies of her students as a relief to the complexities being thrust upon them by the Dark Lord and his despicable followers, by their war. 

She pressed her fingers gently against her eyes, pushing on the sockets near the bridge of her nose, trying to relieve the tension she had building, her weariness catching up, the events of the past few nights, the revelations with Severus finally beginning to take their toll. She slid her chair backwards, angling her body towards her filing cabinet and her patient charts. Opening the lower drawer her fingers danced across the dividers until she landed on the one she had been searching for; Snape, Severus. January First, 1960. Age thirty-eight. (the number updating on every birthday.) Male.  
Dragging the file from the drawer she felt her head tip, her eyes narrow as the file seemed to appear almost five times the size that she had recalled. Opening it, she spread the materials across her knee, preparing to reacquaint herself with her patient and his medical history of conditions. Her eyes scanned the list, widening as the list continued to grow, stretching down the page that had been previously blank;  
Broken wrist. Malnourished. Nasal fracture. Lacerations to chest and face. Punctured lung. Bruising and discoloration to chest and arms. Loss of consciousness (mandrakes). Puncture wound to right thigh. Broken hand. Loss of consciousness (head wound). Dislocated jaw.  
She squeezed her eyes shut as she contemplated what she had just read. Those injuries. Consistent with abuse and bullying. Constant. Spread across the entire school year. And that was just his first year. The list was endless, the accidents and the symptoms consistently occurring, worsening, written in her own hand, the details precise. The problem. She couldn’t remember writing them. Not even one of the incidents detailed in the medical file she had in front of her. Yet there they were, in black and white in her tight, neat script. Something did not add up. And it screamed of Albus Dumbledore, of memory tampering and obliviation, or worse, imperious and compulsion curses as there was one absolute truth Poppy Pomfrey knew and that was unless she was under some kind of forced compulsion there was no way she would forget having treated such heinous mistreatment of a student under her care. No, she decided, something did not add up and it was NOT the character of their current Headmaster that deserved to be under suspicion.

She was just closing the file, preparing to take her new found evidence to Minerva when she was startled by the distinct sound of groaning, the shudder of the foundations under her shook her chair, the noise causing her to stand, the sound almost condemning, disappointed filling the room. She jumped back then, gasping in surprise at the arrival of Severus’ elf. ‘What?’ The word left her before she could control the surprised response.

‘You come now. You must help.’ The voice was hard, it wasn't a question, it was an order, one she had no choice but to follow.

She felt Sage grab hold of her, a long fingered hand on her forearm, her hand still clasping the medical file. Within an instant she felt the distinct pull of apparition, of being sucked through herself and into a new destination. Her eyes sprung open as her feet hit the hard floor. She felt her brow furrow as she took in the potions classroom, the presence of Minerva, the words ‘save MY Severus’ sounding in her ears. With a step forward she extracted herself from the elf’s grip and headed to where Minerva was kneeling, her stance apparent that she was attempting to provide medical assistance; to take a pulse, to stem blood flow.  
////  
Ginny stepped further backwards, pausing by the door to take stock of exactly what she had witnessed. Professor McGonagall had appeared as though summoned in an instant of the Headmaster falling. She had darted forward, her fingers digging through his robes to find his pulse, her expression distraught, her actions determined to assist him. The Death Eater Headmaster. The figure-head of the Order of the Phoenix on her knees beside the Dark Lord’s second in command. The leader of the light, of the resistance helping the epitome of dark. She blinked then, a split second later, in surprise as Madam Pomfrey appeared, paused for a moment before she dashed to kneel beside the Deputy Headmistress, her hands shifting to offer assistance. To save the man everyone was supposed to hate. The murderer of Professor Dumbledore. She turned, seeing that Neville too had witnessed what had happened, had seen the way two of their professors had swooped into help. She glanced back once more, her sense of duty, of guilt finally getting the better of her. The room was empty; Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall & Madam Pomfrey having vanished as quickly as the latter two had appeared. She blushed knowing that she had done nothing to help. That between Harry and Ron, Neville and the D.A, they had done absolutely nothing to assist the situation and now students had been placed in danger. Not from Voldemort and the Death Eaters but by one of their own. The one who was supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world, protector of the innocent. He was supposed to be beacon of everything good. And the one to have saved them, the one who was supposed to be evil beyond measure had lay injured, alone and for the first time since the beginning of the whole threat of war Ginny she wasn’t sure just where the line fell.  
////  
Onyx lay sprawled across the pillows, claiming the head of the bed as her domain, Hermione and Lyublyu merely subjects in her kingdom, her eyes half closed, a soft purr rumbling out of her with each breath. Lyublyu lay on her back, her legs in the air, her tail wagging. Hermione smiled as she tickled the dog’s belly. So far it had been a rather peaceful start to what she hoped would be an uneventful day. The last few days, few weeks and really, if she thought about it, few months had been just horrendous. Traipsing about the forest, keeping two reckless boys safe was by no stretch of the imagination fun. Neither was being kidnapped by snatchers nor tortured by Death Eaters. And that was just the most recent events. The forest had been wet and cold, musty and at times overwhelming in its claustrophobia, the centuries old trees hemming them in. The tent had been small, despite the modifications made, the extending charms. And almost in spite of the magic woven into the fabric the accommodations had been basic…at a stretch.

She sat up slightly, shifting from where she had been laying on her side, indulging in a cuddle with the animals as she attempted to reign in the thoughts, the memories of her capture and assault. She blinked clearing the tears that had welled as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, her hand pausing to rest on Lyublyu’s belly, her fingers tangled in her soft fur. She wondered what had happened to the boys. After their capture. She had seen them in the forest. She had heard that the snatchers had been unable to find her companions, that they had caught one of the boys, but had been unable to recognize him and therefore had dismissed his importance. Her hastily shot stinging hex must have hit its mark, done its job she surmised. She had heard then that she was the only one to be taken to the Dark Lord, and that as a result the torture, the revel, their intentions towards her had intensified in order to pacify their lord after their supposed failure. And then she had been saved, and with all the goings on, the sudden switch in dynamics, in the apparent truth, she had forgotten all about them. She sighed knowing that she could do little to help them now. There was little she could do to help herself. She was reliant on Severus and she just hoped her faith was placed in the right champion.

Her attention snapped up, her eyes darting about the chambers as the very foundations shook, the room shifting about her, books falling from the shelves as shudders of earthquake proportions claimed the space. Onyx bolted upright, her back arched, her teeth bared as she hissed, her tail puffed up in her displeasure. Hermione reached a hand to steady the cat as she continued to hold Lyublyu, the small dog having rolled to a crouch, her eyes sad as she began to whimper. The castle emitted another shudder, its walls seeming to heave with strain. It creaked, the sound, if she wasn’t mistaken was one of distinct protest, clear lamentation.

She shifted, climbing from the bed, her eyes narrowed, her head tilted as she approached the stone wall, certain that was where the hum of magic, the vibration was emanating from. She placed a hand against it, listening for some anomaly. She had been expecting to feel the smooth, cold stones pressed against her palm. Her breath caught as she felt the warmth pulsing through the structure. Everything under her palm seemed to quiver at her touch as though responding to her attentions. She felt a warmth flow through her before the pulse ebbed, the heat disappearing as she was plunged into coldness, the feeling of deep despair washing over her. She pulled her hand back as though burnt; the extreme juxtaposition of happiness and warmth having been replaced with distress and anguish in a second shaking her to the very core. 

She glanced down at her palm as though expecting to see frost burn, her hand remained undamaged. She turned to face where Lyublyu was running in frantic circles. ‘It’s ok girl.’ She whispered, taking a step closer in an attempt to corral the dog. ‘Please. It’s ok.’ 

Hermione froze in her approach. With a yelp Lyublyu shot from the room as three figures landed heavily in the space in front of her. She blinked, wondering exactly what was happening, as she took stock of who had breached the headmaster’s quarters, Severus’ wards. ‘Professor?’ She kept her voice low, surprised that she was no longer alone, relieved that the castle humming had warned her before her guests arrived, one of them filling the place she had so recently abandoned.

‘I don’t know what happened.’ Minerva answered the girl’s unspoken question as she continued to attempt to locate a pulse on her colleague’s throat. ‘I was in my classroom. And then the potions lab and now here.’ Saying it out loud didn’t make it any clearer to her. She shook her head, her confusion evident.

‘The best I can come up with is appartition.’ Poppy waved her wand over where Severus lay on his side, in the position he had collapsed, now however he was on his bed and not the stone floor of the dungeon classroom. 

‘That’s impossible.’ Minerva shook her head. ‘The castle…’

‘Tis the old magics.’ Sage’s voice answered, interrupting as she popped into the room. ‘It is saving MY Severus.’

‘What do you mean the castle is?’ Hermione stepped forward to look down at the fallen Headmaster.

‘Castle sees all Little Miss. Castle feels.’ Sage nodded wisely as though her explanation was finite, obvious.

‘The castle is alive?’ Hermione gasped, the knowledge almost overwhelming as it was not something she had read or heard about in the whole time she had been at Hogwarts or through her perusal of ‘Hogwarts: A History.’ Of course, that explanation did make sense of the pulse, of the feelings she had experienced when she had touched the wall.

‘The castle is sentient. Miss Granger.’ Minerva spoke quietly, her voice reverent, her expression relieved as she finally found a pulse, as she realized Severus still lived and breathed.

‘Tis more than that. Castle cares. Castle helps. Castle takes care of those deserving.’ Sage stepped up onto the bed to squat beside Severus’ head. ‘MY Severus is deserving. MY Severus allowed to apparate.’ She spoke proudly as she placed a hand onto his forehead. She closed her eyes as she concentrated. A small spark of light flowed from her hand, ebbing into Severus. Yellow wisps of poison floated to the surface his skin discoloring for a second before the elf absorbed it all.

‘But Albus…’ Minerva started, she paused, her brow furrowing. She shook her head. ‘You know, I don’t remember the last time he was able to apparate.’

‘The castle was not happy.’ Sage stated evenly, her eyes still closed as she concentrated. ‘Castle only help those worthy.’

‘The castle thought Albus wasn’t worthy.’ Poppy commented, her eyes directed at Severus, a scowl on her features as she realized the castle, the elf had confirmed the fears the newly revealed medical file had brought to life.

‘Castle not always agree.’ Sage responded critically. ‘At beginning it was…’ she stopped, her focus returning to Severus as he stirred under her hand.

Severus coughed slightly, gasping for breath. He became aware of a softness under his shoulder and hip, a warm hand hovering over his head, a lightness sweeping through his entire being. He blinked, opening his eyes. He saw Sage by his head, one of her feet in his eye shot. Behind that he could see three concerned gazes locked onto him. ‘Can I be of assistance.’ His voice was hoarse, his intention not lost on the women as he attempted to sit up, to appear as though nothing happened. He relented in his struggle to shift upright as Sage slapped his shoulder, as she held him in place.

‘He is to live.’ She smiled, wolf-like as she glowered at the other occupants in the room. She turned her eyes back to Severus. ‘You is okay. If you stay. Rest.’ She glared at him, daring him to challenge her diagnosing and treatment. ‘MY Severus must rest.’ She softened her smile as he nodded, conceding to her superior knowledge, to her prescribed care.

‘What happened?’ Minerva lay a hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention.

‘Potter happened.’ Severus schooled his features, kept his tone flat.

‘Harry’s alive? He’s here? He and Ron are safe?’ Hermione’s voice was surprised, happy, her words rushed before she caught herself. Her features fell, her joy at her realization being overtaken by anger. ‘Harry did this?’ She let her eyes roam over where despite his protests Poppy was running her wand over his brow, healing the cut that sliced through it. ‘This was deliberate?’ She gestured madly at his injured body, relieved as the combined healing magic of Sage and Poppy absorbed the bruising, his skin returning to a normal color, the burn blisters smoothing out. ‘I’ll kill him.’ She spat. ‘Savior or not. I told him we do not cause injury. We harm no one.’ She paused for a second, her volume falling to a whisper. ‘If we can help it.’

‘That is not necessary,’ Severus caught her hand in his, stopping her mad gesticulating. He saw her eyes drop to their joined hands. He saw her swallow, her eyes widen at his action. He released his hold, satisfied she was not going to cast accidental emotional magic or take off from her hand waving, arm flapping. ‘This is not the first time…’

‘This has happened before?’ Minerva growled, her glare piercing as she stared at him. Her eyes narrowed further as he smirked.

‘Oh yes.’ He raised a brow. ‘I have been a favorite amongst your Gryffindors for,’ he paused grinning wider, his tone sarcastic, ‘the last twenty-seven years.’ 

‘Surely they never…’ Her voice trailed off as the true realization of the situation dawned on her. She turned as Poppy stepped up beside her. She felt the hand on her bicep, gaining her attention, directing it to the file being held open for her perusal. She let her eyes scan the page, the details, the images, the unending list of ‘accidents’ and injuries filling her with more concern. ‘Oh Severus,’ she shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, to take hold of his hand in hers. She locked her gaze on his. ‘I didn't know.’

‘I didn’t either.’ Poppy glanced at him before letting her eyes fall to the floor in self-disgust. ‘The castle just showed me.’

‘You treated me,’ Severus paused as he let his voice trail off. ‘I always wondered…Who else did he alter? Who else did he influence?’  
‘Albus?’ Minerva spat turning away. ‘The castle was right to restrict him to the floo.’


	22. Chapter 22

 

Chapter 22

‘Professor?’ Hermione reached a hand out and touched her Deputy’s shoulder.

 

‘It’s Minerva.’ She turned to face her favorite student. ‘You’re no longer my student. So please. Call me Minerva.’ She smiled softly, her hand still holding Severus’ hand as she looked at the girl.

 

‘I think I may be one of those Professor Dumbledore influenced.’ Hermione swallowed then as she watched the three adults all direct their gaze towards her; Severus’ brow raised in question, Minerva’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, suspicion and Poppy’s head shook in what she assumed to be judgement. ‘Well, I have to take some responsibility.’

 

‘What did he do child.’ Minerva tilted her head in question, her voice soft now, her expression shifting from annoyed to patient as she awaited the explanation.

 

‘The time turner.’ Hermione started.

 

‘Albus gave you a time turner?’ Severus sat upright, his voice loud, forceful as he expressed his displeasure.

 

‘No, I did.’ Minerva shook her head, her voice now quiet. 

 

‘You gave a child a time turner?’ Severus’ voice raised in protest, in disbelief.

 

‘I’m not a child.’ Hermione spoke softly. 

 

‘When did this atrocity happen?’ Severus ignored her statement, her hurt tone as he directed his query to his Deputy.

 

‘Her third year.’ Minerva shook her head again. ‘She was trying to choose between electives. She wanted to study everything.’ She smiled fondly then. ‘Her thirst for knowledge Severus. It rivalled yours. I wanted to help encourage that. I spoke to Albus.’ She paused for a second, her hand lifting to silence his protest before he could make it. Her eyes narrowed again. ‘I gave Hermione the time turner. On Albus’ suggestion.’

 

‘I just wanted to get the best out of my education.’ Hermione felt her eyes well with tears, her voice catch as she realized she would now not be able to complete her NEWTS and graduate. ‘It seems silly now. All things considered. I studied everything and it equates to nothing.’

 

‘It’s not silly Little One.’ Severus softened his entire approach, his countenance as he turned to face her. ‘And it’s not going to equate to nothing.’

 

‘I don't understand.’ She brushed at a tear that was trying to escape.

 

‘I am going to let you study for and then sit your exams Hermione.’ Severus stated evenly, his voice controlled now.

 

‘But won’t that…’ 

 

‘No.’ He interrupted her. ‘When the war ends, if we prevail I will submit the tests with the rest of the cohort and you will be awarded your end of school examinations.’ He shrugged then. ‘And if we fail, you will have been utilizing your intelligence and learning all you can. It won’t matter if you don’t have the final score, the piece of paper Hermione. But you will have the skills associated.’

 

‘I will?’

 

‘I will even help.’ He smiled then, showing his true intent.

 

‘You would do this.’ Minerva whispered, her face full of awe. ‘For her?’

 

He kept his eyes trained on Hermione. ‘I will not let your potential go to waste. I may even start you on a potions mastery, if you feel so inclined.’ He bobbed his head slightly in deference to her wishes.

 

‘I would…’ she paused again, gathering her thoughts, her composure. ‘I can still learn?’ Her words started to speed up with her excitement. ‘That would be amazing. And you’ll teach me everything you know?’

 

‘I can’t say everything.’ He smirked at her narrowed gaze, her shift to argue. ‘But I will impart everything I can.’ He smiled widely then. ‘On the proviso…’

 

‘There's a catch?’ Hermione gasped out.

 

‘He is Slytherin.’ It was Poppy’s turn to smirk.

 

‘Only a small one.’ Severus continued, ignoring the jested slight against his house, his nature. ‘You will tell me how Albus influenced you. Now.’

 

Hermione shot a concerned look at her Head of House before turning her eyes back to Severus. ‘He told me that he knew I had the time turner. And that while I had to be careful how I used it, that I wasn’t to change the past events, or alter the timeline as it had happened,’ she took a deep breath, ‘He did tell me it would be very worth my while using it to learn all the things that could be of use to the greater good, in an upcoming time of turmoil and unrest.’ 

 

‘He gave you Carte Blanche?’ Minerva’s eyes widened. ‘You were only supposed to…’ She shook her head as the endless possibilities flooded her mind, the dangers of excessive turning, the plethora of influence a teenager could have had. ‘Hermione, what did you do?’

 

She swallowed, letting her eyes shift between the three adults. ‘Well?’

 

‘Yes Miss Granger?’ Severus raised a brow, schooled his features and reverted to formality as he used his best teacher voice to make her answer, the subtleties so ingrained that subconsciously she would respond and tell them what they wished to know.

 

‘I studied every course on offer here. Across most of the years, not just third year. But then I dropped Divination and Muggle Studies.’ She shrugged. ‘It kind of seemed pointless you know, learning about non-magics from people who had never actually seen one.’ She shook her head, dismissing the image that popped into her mind, the last one she had of her parents, of them sitting down to watch the tv, glasses of red in their hands, smiles on their faces. The last moment they were truly her parents. Before she obliviated them, erased her existence from their memories, their minds. ‘So,’ she continued quickly to stem the quell of tears before it could start, ‘with a gap in my schedule I took a St John’s Ambulance First Aid and a Bushcraft course on survival. I started fencing and archery lessons. And also I took a short course in Mandarin.’ She stopped talking then and glanced between the three adults, watching their minds process what she had told them, watching as they caught up. ‘Professor Dumbledore told me to be prepared.’ She shrugged again. ‘He didn’t say what in. Or for what. So you know…’ her voice trailed off as she twirled a finger in the air in insinuation of her unspoken thought.

 

‘You did all that?’ Poppy asked, her brow creased. ‘In one year.’

 

‘I may or may not have saved a Hippogriff too.’ Hermione whispered, shrugging off the act once more.

 

‘How did you?’ Minerva locked her gaze on hers. ‘How did you fit it all in? How often did you…? She let the question remain unspoken as the ramifications of her actions, of handing over the time turner dawned.

 

‘I lived every day almost three times.’ Hermione’s eyes shifted to avoid all eye contact. ‘Sometimes four.’

 

‘That would make you twenty-two now.’ Poppy stated, being familiar with the girl’s medical chart, her date of birth. ‘I wonder if that is just one more detail Albus shielded from my view. I wonder if that is what your chart will read next time I pick it up?’

 

‘How did you get out?’ Severus brought their attention back to the situation at hand. ‘From the castle? To your other courses?’

 

‘I apparated.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she turned her eyes back to his. ‘I didn’t know that wasn’t supposed to be possible til today.’ She shrugged again. ‘I never had any problem.’

 

‘You learnt to apparate?’ Minerva questioned, now completely thrown.

 

‘I taught myself.’ Hermione blushed.

 

‘Let me guess,’ Severus smirked once more. ‘You read it in a book.’

 

Her blush deepened. ‘Indeed.’ She mimicked his trademark response, embarrassed that her overuse of the time turner had been discovered, that she had been manipulated into thinking it was all her own idea.

 

‘Impressive.’ Minerva smiled then. ‘Is there nothing you can’t do?’

 

‘I can’t occlude.’ Hermione shot a glance at Severus, hoping he would pick up on her desire, her unspoken request to have that as part of her unofficial curriculum. ‘And I want to become an animungus, but even I know I can’t do that through reading alone.’

 

‘I’d be proud to teach you.’ Minerva nodded, smiling even wider.

 

‘Really?’ Hermione beamed at the prospect of adding another skill to her already impressive skill-set, at the whole idea of being able to study, to learn and to excel while being cooped up. That knowledge would mean power and that power would potentially allow her to assist in the war efforts despite her ‘dead’ status.

 

‘Touching.’ Severus rolled his eyes as he watched the two Gryffindor bond, as he let his Potions master persona show, his sarcasm clear. ‘Don't expect that I will be jumping at the chance to teach you occlumency.’

 

‘Speaking of occlumency.’ Minerva took the lead he had given her and pushed the point, her brow raised in challenge, knowing that projecting his memory to her was the only way possible to potentially bypass Albus’ fail-safe vow and allow her to truly understand his role in the war, his suffering for his allegiance.

 

‘I do not think letting you flounce around my mind would be advantageous right now.’ He shook his head, his mind screaming to not open himself to that kind of trust, his heart countering, reminding him how he was tired of being alone, of fighting against the very people he was supposed to be fighting with. ‘I’m not sure I’m…’

 

‘Severus.’ Minerva interrupted. She smiled gently, turning her attention solely back to him, knowing where his real hesitation came from and not wanting him to feel as though she too was, while he was still injured and possibly weakened, manipulating him into a position of laying his soul bare for her. ‘I will only see what you allow me to see. I promise I won’t go looking for more.’ 

 

Severus closed his eyes for a moment as he deliberated. He nodded slightly before opening his eyes and locking his gaze on hers. ‘Very well.’ He sat up a little straighter. ‘I’m not sure how well this will work. I haven't reverse projected before. I imagine it's a little like creating false memories, but the trick here is I have to let go. I have to give over control.’

 

‘And that could very well kill you.’ Minerva grinned at him as she patted her hand on his shin. ‘Giving over control.’

 

‘Indeed.’ He shook his head, smirking. ‘But I shall persevere.’ His smile stretched to full blown. ‘For the greater good.’

 

‘I hate that phrase.’ Poppy scoffed. ‘Such a pile of hogwash. The greater bloody good. If it was for the greater good, the greater number would have known the full picture, the plans.’ 

 

‘And here I thought I was the only cynic.’  Severus deadpanned.

‘Not by a long shot Laddie.’ Minerva assured him. ‘While I may have been a bit slow on the uptake when it came to you, I have been questioning Albus’ ideas for decades.’ Her eyes dropped to her lap, to study her hands. ‘I guess I just never questioned the right ideas, the right motives. I always thought he had an endgame. For the war I mean.’ She shrugged. ‘I should have been more forthright in my questioning.’ She brought her eyes back to Severus’. ‘So, show me what I need to know.’

 

‘You have to let me in. Relax. Open your mind.’ He spoke quietly, his voice soothing, almost meditative. 

 

‘And how do I know you won’t go searching for my secrets.’ Her smile, her teasing tone told him she was just as worried as he was, but that she did not fear his impact on her mind.

 

‘Trust goes both ways.’ He matched her soft smile. ‘And trust me when I tell you I have no desire to know your deepest darkest wants and secrets.’ 

 

‘I’m very interesting.’ Minerva chuckled softly at the look that passed across his features.

 

‘I highly doubt that.’ Severus retorted, his face blank, his tone flat, dismissive. He chuckled then as she poked her tongue out at him. ‘You are amusing however.’ He turned to face Hermione and Poppy. ‘This won’t take long.’ He paused, his head tilting. ‘I think.’

 

‘We shall go make tea.’ Poppy offered, shifting towards the door, pausing to see that Hermione followed. ‘I’ll be right outside if you need my assistance.’ She watched him nod in acknowledgement, saw Minerva offer a smile filled with confidence and reassurance before she stepped from the room, giving them privacy to delve into the inner workings of his mind, his memories.

 

‘I’ll,’ Hermione stopped, her face falling. ‘I don’t have any input. Or anything valuable to add. I’ll just go help Poppy.’ She glanced between the two of them before her eyes landed on Severus’. ‘Please be careful.’

 

‘Worried I’ll taint her mind?’ He raised a brow as he retorted, his voice tight.

 

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, I’m worried that you’ll both see things you shouldn’t, things you can’t take back or change.’ With that said, at the softening of his gaze in acknowledgment of her sentiment she turned and left, following Poppy from the room.

 

‘She likes you.’ Minerva smiled before giving his leg a gentle squeeze. ‘And she trusts you.’

 

He shifted uncomfortably at her words, at their implication. ‘Do you trust me?’ He changed the focus to her.

 

‘I’m about to open my mind to you Severus.’ Minerva stated evenly. ‘If that isn’t trust, I don’t know what is.’ 

 

‘We don’t have to do this.’ Severus spoke quietly, his true hesitation obvious.

 

‘Quit stalling Severus.’ Minerva chastised softly. ‘Nothing can be worse than what I am picturing.’

 

‘I wouldn’t count on that.’ He locked his gaze on hers, his hand still under where she rested hers on his leg, their connection through eye contact reinforced through the physical touch. He watched her take as breath as she settled herself more comfortably on the edge of the bed. He whispered the spell, opening his mind, drawing forward the memory of the precise moment Albus had cornered him into the action that had cemented his traitor status.

 

_‘What about my soul?’ The words left his mouth before he could control the emotional response._

_Albus just shook his head. ‘To not do this Severus would be the cowards way out. You promised me.’ He stood taller, looking down his nose at his spy. ‘You promised Lilly.’_

_‘I know.’ Severus whispered, his head hung low, his hair falling over his face. ‘But you are the only one who…’_

_‘Who what Severus?’ Albus stared down at him as he interrupted him. ‘Who doesn’t see you as a spy? Who knows the real reason you came back to the side of light.’_

_‘I never truly left it.’ Severus shook his head, his voice strained._

_‘That mark on your arm says otherwise.’ Albus gestured towards his Dark Mark._

_‘I was seventeen. I made an error. I made one mistake.’ Severus blinked, his eyes tearing up. ‘And I have done everything I can to make up for it.’_

_‘And you will do one more thing.’ Albus smiled benevolently then. ‘It will be an act of mercy.’ He held up his curse damaged hand, the blackened appendage warped and painful looking. ‘It will be the greatest help you can give me.’_

_Severus nodded his reluctant agreement, his head still downturned hi eyes strained._

 

He shuddered as the memory ran through him, playing as though recorded for continuity, to be replayed over and over to torture and condemn him to his role as traitor and murdered. He took a deep breath, preparing to withdraw from Minerva’s mind. He felt his emotions of betrayal, hurt and sorrow well. He knew it would only take a moment, to let go, to let her see it all. He felt his body relax, his mind succumbing to the need to be completely trusted, to be truly understood. With another exhale he let it all go, the images cascading from his mind into hers faster than he could filter them, bombarding her with moment after moment;

 

_‘You’re pathetic. You little freak.’ The shadow of the tall man towered over where he was attempting to hide in the cupboard, the smell of blood permeating the air, the sounds of a woman crying in the background. ‘Stop being a coward. Get out here and take your punishment.’ He heard the belt snap as his father pulled the two ends apart. He sniffed, the snot running down his face dripping onto his chest as he curled his five-year-old body up smaller, tucking himself further into the corner of the dark cupboard._

 

The image swirled, the run down house, the damaged cupboard fading into obscurity to be replaced with the stone hall of Hogwarts, the house banners     Lining the wall.

 

_‘No one likes you.’ James Potter drifted in and out of the line of sight, his face up-side-down, his smile wide his eyes sparkling with satisfaction, with arrogance. ‘You’re pathetic. You're a coward. And you look ridiculous with your greasy hair, your huge honking nose, your crooked teeth. Whatever made you think Lilly would like you, would want to be seen with you? She is NEVER going to want you. No one will EVER want you.’  He stepped backwards then to stand with his friends, with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, his point made. ‘Aguamenti.’ James then swirled his wand, the gesture dramatic, over exaggerated. The water shot out and liberally soaked the teenaged Severus, suspended in midair, his robes over his head, his worn underwear on display for the rest of the world to see._

_‘At least you’re clean now.’ James laughed before turning and walking away. He watched their feet disappear from the top edge of his vision as he hung limply, waiting for the spell to wear off._

 

Another flickering of images, of words cascaded around her, never fully coming to fruition as they washed through her.

 

_‘Mudblood.’ Growled, in Severus’ distinct tenor, a little higher than the tone she was used to now, but recognizable none-the-less._

_‘I’ll never forgive you. Ever.’ Lilly’s green eyes, narrowed in anger and hurt, James smiling broadly as he wrapped his arm about her shoulder in support, in intimidation of the boy begging forgiveness before them._

_‘You are nothing Snivellus.’ Black’s words biting as they were thrown across the Great Hall a jinx following._

_‘He’s not to be trusted, My Lord.’ Bellatrix screeching as she dragged a sharp nail down his cheek, the edge slipping under his skin, a line of blood springing to the surface._

_‘Only a coward wouldn’t do as you ask, My Lord. Only a coward wouldn’t take what you are offering here with this muggle, this girl.’ He directed his eyes back to where Severus knelt, his smile growing, knowing the audience hung on his every word. ‘Is it cowardice Severus?’  Rabastian LeStrange’s voice light, his hands locked around the naked girl’s throat as he dangled her in front of him. ‘Or impotence? Is that the problem Severus? That despite your unfortunate LARGE nose, your equipment is lacking?’ He threw his head back and laughed._

 

Once more the scene shifted, faster than she could catch up she was thrown into another memory.

 

_‘Come on Snivellus. Don’t be a coward. It’s only the shrieking shack. What could possibly be scary about that?’ Sirius Black taunted, his smiling face wafting back and forwards in front of him._

_Severus pushed his hair back, revealing his teenaged face, his jaw dotted with acne, his cheeks skinny, underweight, his shoulders stooped as though weighted down with the weight of the world. ‘I don’t know…’_

_‘Ha ha. Something Snivellus doesn’t know. You must be devastated.’ Sirius gave him a shove towards the secret tunnel. ‘Only one way to find out.’_

 

Images of teeth, fur, terror inundated Minerva’s mind, not quite forming a complete picture, swirling through before settling to land on Albus, his arms folded, his usual smile gone, his twinkling blue eyes hard, unforgiving.

 

_‘No one can know Severus. He would be ostracized. Treated terribly.’_

_‘Like I am.’ Teenaged Severus whispered from his hospital bed, his arm wrapped in bandages, blood soaking through._

_‘I believe it would be different. As a werewolf he would be regarded with suspicion. He would have to leave school.’ Albus patted Severus’ shoulder, his hand gripping tightly for a second before relaxing. ‘I would have to expel you for trespassing, for venturing out after curfew, for endangering another’s schooling.’ He released his shoulder and took a few steps to the edge of the curtain before turning and looking back at the teenaged boy, head down, as he examined the hospital blanket over his lap. ‘You don’t want your education to be over do you? You don’t want to have to go home to your father do you? Never to return?’ He saw Severus shake his head. ‘Then don’t take the coward’s way out. Own your mistake.’_

 

The memories swirled again, her own image coming before her eyes, her wand raised, her fury radiating from her as she pointed her wand directly at him.

 

_‘Coward.’ She took a menacing step towards where he stood on the Dias, his lips pulled tight, his expression, she could now see as hurt. ‘Coward.’_

 

She felt him retreat from her mind. She blinked as she brought her eyes back to focus on him. Her breath caught at the tears streaming down his face, the show of weakened, of unbridled emotion.

 

‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head, his face distraught. ‘I didn’t mean for you to see all of that. I couldn’t stop it. Once it started.’ He gulped, turning his face away. ‘I’m sorry.’ His body shuddered against the sobs he was desperately trying to suppress.

 

‘Oh Severus.’ She lifted her hand and ran the backs of her fingers across his cheek, wiping the tears gently, completely aware that her face matched his, her own cheeks streaked with evidence that she had been moved by his plight, the unfairness of his life. She let her fingers rest u der his chin as she angled his face back to hers, watching as he shook, feeling the tremors as they shook him under her fingertips. ‘Look at me Severus.’ She held him still, her hands coming to cup his face her palms against his wet cheeks. ‘Don’t hide from me.’ She waited until he lifted his eyes back to hers before she continued. ‘I am so terribly sorry.’ She shifted slightly forward on the bed so that she was more in line with his body. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders, and despite his initial stiffening, his reluctance she pulled him into her embrace, holding him tight as he lost control of his sobs, his body shaking as each one wracked through him. She ran a hand over his head, smoothing his hair as he cried himself out onto her shoulder. She heard him hiccup a few times as he attempted to pull his emotions back under his control. ‘If I had known. If I had even an inkling that he treated you like this.’ She leant back slightly so that he could see the sincerity in her eyes, her hands shifting to wrap around his biceps, her reluctance to let him go completely obvious. ‘I would have thrown him off the damn tower myself.’

 

‘I’m not sure the Dark Lord would have believed you were converting to the dark side.’ He sniffed, trying to reign in his emotions.

 

‘I don’t care.’ Minerva tucked him against her once more, wrapping her arms more fully around him. ‘He flaunted your loneliness, your fears and your education over your head. No wonder you were tempted by the promise of power and friends.’

 

‘It lasted one meeting. A single solitary gathering.’ Severus whispered. ‘And in that moment I sealed my fate. To be the outcast in every sense of the word. Never really a Death Eater. Never really one of the staff here. Never to fit in anywhere. Never truly trusted by anyone, regardless of their allegiance.’

 

‘You’re trusted now.’ She whispered, rocking him against her. ‘I’m sorry I let you down. That it took a glimpse of your real nature, the risking of your life for that of another for me to see you for who you actually are.’ She pressed a kiss against the top of his head. ‘I am sorry I took Albus at his word, yet I ignored yours.’ She narrowed her eyes as she stared over his head at the castle wall. ‘And I’m sorry I’ll never get the chance to tell him what an ass he truly is.’ 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Hermione reached out, her hand wrapping around the handle of the kettle. She lifted it and began filling the mugs on the counter in Severus’ small kitchen. Poppy was levitating sugar and milk from the cupboards and fridge onto the bench beside her.

‘With all your extra-curricular training Miss Granger,’ she smiled then, her voice teasing. ‘I still find you manually preparing the tea.’

Hermione shrugged at the older woman’s observation. ‘I find menial tasks keep my mind from wandering to things that I have no control over, thing I can’t change or things that I shouldn’t be stressing over but do.

‘Severus.’ It was a statement not a question.

‘I’ve seen the scars.’ Hermione whispered. ‘But I don’t think I’m ready to see how he got them.’

‘His memories?’ Poppy turned to face her. ‘You don’t want to see them?’

‘I don’t know.’ She dragged her teeth across her lower lip as her brow furrowed. ‘I know he wants us to trust him.’ She shook her head. ‘But if he truly is what he says he is, we shouldn’t need to invade his privacy, to see his memories to do that.’

‘Oh that’s not what this is about.’ Minerva stated as she entered the room. She stopped by Poppy and folded her arms across her chest. ‘This is about so much more. This is about getting to the bottom of this whole damn war business and finding out just what Albus was up to.’

‘Not good?’ Poppy picked up on Minerva’s disgusted tone.

‘I will show you later.’ She placed a hand on Poppy’s shoulder. ‘But that poor boy. It was worse than I could have possibly imagined.’ She shook her head then. ‘I’m not sure I would have survived it. I don’t think I would have stayed true to myself, to my principles. I think,’ she shook her again. ‘No, I know I would have thrown my hands in the air and just given up. I could not do what Severus has done.’

‘Is he?’ Poppy began, her hand sweeping to broadly gesture at the tea.

‘He’s resting.’ Minerva took a few steps towards the door. ‘I told him we would return tomorrow and continue. Right now he needs sleep.’ She smiled then. ‘Sage was most insistent.’

‘What should I…’ Hermione’s voice trailed off.

‘Just be kind to him.’ Minerva stated, her expression, her tone serious. ‘It’s all we can do right now.’

‘And we can be thankful tomorrow is Saturday.’ Poppy nodded, pleased. ‘Give the boy a moment or two to recover before stepping back into the fray.’

‘We will see you tomorrow.’ Minerva made her way to the floo, Poppy closely behind her. ‘Do try to sleep well.’ She threw over she shoulder as she disappeared into the hearth.

Hermione nodded, her action lost, her words frozen as she watched the Deputy headmistress and the school Matron depart, leaving her alone once more with Severus. She took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a second as she tried to reign in her emotions, knowing he had been hurt by her friend, knowing that something he had shown Minerva had shaken her, knowing that as her parents had always said, nothing is black and white, nothing is ever as it seems, wondering just which side of Severus Snape was the true measure of the man; her savior or the accused murderer of Albus Dumbledore.

She took a few steps back towards the door separating the bedroom from the rest of his quarters. She placed a hand against the frame and poked her head through, trying to assess how he was, where he was, what he was doing. She started as his eyes turned to her from where he sat, resting against the headboard, his hands laying on his lap, a book open but discarded beside them.

‘I’m not asleep.’ He spoke quietly having seen her surprise. ‘There is no need to loiter. I assume there is an intent?’

‘I don’t actually have a reason.’ She matched his tone, his volume. 

‘Then that is even worse.’ He smiled then and set his book aside, sitting himself up straighter despite his body fatigue. ‘Quit hovering. It was bad enough when Minerva was doing it. Come in.’

She took a few hesitant steps inside heading towards the bed where he sat resting. Her eyes roamed over him, taking in his slightly flushed skin, his red-rimmed puffy eyes, the lines around them deeper than usual in his injured, fatigued state. ‘Are you okay? Is there anything I can get for you?’

‘Surprisingly, I feel light. Like a weight has lifted.’ His eyes dropped to his lap. ‘If I had known I would feel like this I would have…’ His voice trailed off as he shook his head. ‘No I wouldn’t have.’ His eyes found hers. ‘You gave me the opportunity. And while I will always regret that you were caught, tortured and abused Little One, I cannot reconcile myself to be sorry that I got to save you, that I got to bring you here.’ He turned his head and directed his gaze away from hers once more. ‘And for that, for taking a minute moment of pleasure from this whole unfortunate, god-awful situation, I am truly sorry.’

She took a few more steps, closing the distance between them and placed a hand on his. She felt him flinch slightly under her soft touch. ‘Don’t be.’ She spoke quietly, her voice sincere. She held her gaze level, hoping he would turn his back to her, to see just how much she meant the words she was saying. ‘You didn’t capture me. You weren’t the one to hurt me. You have done everything in your power to make me feel comfortable and safe.’ She watched the color rise on his cheeks slightly as she offered her opinion on his claim. ‘And if that has given you solace and an opportunity to no longer be alone, feared and condemned, then I am not sorry at all.’ She lifted a hand and placed her palm against his face. Using the minutest amount of pressure, she angled his face, his eyes back to hers. ‘I mean it Severus.’ She continued when his gaze had met hers. ‘Humans as a species aren’t meant to be alone. You shouldn't have had to be.’ She smiled softly then. ‘So I’m glad that something good came out of something horrible.’

His lips tightened for a moment. ‘What exactly did Minerva tell you?’ His voice strained.

She sat up straighter, her hand shifting from his face to fall into her lap. ‘Nothing.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a second, her eyes wide as she looked back at him. ‘You seem to collect pets. Your dog’s name, Lyublyu means love.’ She watched his brow raise, his expression soften. She hurried to get her observations across. ‘You have been crying. You always appear to be alone, on the periphery. Both here at school and during Order meetings. While you were hesitant you let Minerva in, you wanted her to see and to know. So, I just guessed that…’ her throat tightened, her voice constricting, catching. ‘I’m sorry.’

He shook his head for a moment before smiling at her once more. ‘You truly do deserve the brightest witch of her age moniker don’t you.’ He gauged her reaction to his teasing. He watched her eyes narrow for a split second before her lips pulled into a smile to match his own. ‘I will repeat Minerva’s statement earlier. Is there nothing you can’t do?’ His head tilted, ‘Occlumency aside of course.’

‘Well, apparently I can’t get you anything,’ she twirled a hand in nonchalance. ‘Do anything for you.’

He grinned widely then. ‘Oh I didn’t exactly say that.’

Her eyes narrowed once more, her arms folded over her chest in mock annoyance. ‘Should I be afraid?’

‘Very.’ His features schooled, his smile disappearing as his voice turned neutral.

‘Okay?’ She answered somewhat hesitantly. She caught the corner of her lower lip in her teeth as she attempted to read his expression.

‘You get to take the blame when Sage returns and finds I’m not asleep.’ He deadpanned.

‘Oh no Sir,’ she shook her head grinning. ‘You’re on your own with that one.’

‘Where’s your Gryffindor bravery now?’ He smirked, his arms folding to match her position.

‘I don’t believe it extends to mad elves overly protective of their,’ her grin dropped from her face and her head tilted on question as she regarded him. ‘What are you to her Sir?’

‘I am her Severus.’ He responded dryly, as though that answer was obvious enough.

‘Which means?’ It was her turn to raise a questioning brow.

‘I am not quite her elf-ling.’ He smiled softly. ‘But I think I am close.’

‘You’re her baby.’ Hermione grinned widely then as she watched his expression morph to one of petulance and annoyance.

‘I am no one’s baby.’ His tone belligerent as he corrected her. He matched her grin then, letting the charade go as he locked his amused eyes on hers. ‘I am her not-quite elf-ling.’

She shrugged then. ‘I see no difference.’ She smirked, repeating the phrase he had once used on her.

He raised a brow, his expression while teasing, haughty. ‘One would hope I am less wrinkly.’

Hermione felt the chuckle escape before she could control it. She saw his eyes narrow, their depths still sparkling in his amusement, despite his best efforts to appear most put out. ‘Not if you don’t go to sleep you won’t be.’

‘Well that’s just lovely.’ He smirked then. ‘Let’s just add wrinkly to my list of unflattering adjectives then shall we?’ He shook his head, lifting a hand as he began to count off his attributes. ‘Unattractive. Excessively large nose. Bat-like…’

‘I don’t think you can count bat-like.’ Hermione giggled again, shifting to it down the end of the bed. Her outer thigh brushed against his legs as she settled.

‘And why is that, Miss Granger?’ His voice crisp, intrigued, his tone formal once more as he attempted to separate his feelings from what he was sure going to be a cruel assessment of his features.

‘Well, Sir,’ she grinned then, her voice teasing once more. ‘I’m not exactly sure bat-like was a physical attribute or a character one…’ Her sentence came to a grounding halt as she attempted to stifle a laugh at the look that crossed his face.

‘I see.’ He nodded once as he contemplated the statement, his expression devoid of emotion as he detached himself from reacting emotionally.

‘I don’t think you’re bat-like.’ She placed a hand on his knee as she spoke softly.

‘And what makes you qualified to pass that assessment.’ He commented dryly, interesting in exactly what her justification would be.

‘I’m the swot-ish, bookworm with buck teeth and big bushy hair. Who better than I to pass judgement and understand the ramifications.’ She held his gaze for a moment before he nodded once more.

‘You do have an obscene amount of hair.’ He conceded. He smirked again then. ‘So I will defer to your opinion and expertise.’ He raised a brow. ‘So tell me Hermione, do I resemble a great bat?’

She smirked to match his expression. Her eyes sparkled as she prepared to deliver the teasing blow. ‘Well, if you are, you are certainly a striking bat.’ She blushed then under his scrutiny as she realized exactly what she had said, implied. ‘But,’ she continued, attempting to distract him from her admission. ‘If you refuse to sleep, you will be keeping bat-like hours.’

He laughed then. ‘Nice save Granger.’ He patted her hand where it still lay forgotten by her, on his knee. He laughed louder, unable to control the response as her eyes widened and her blush deepened, as she pulled her hand away as though burned. He reigned his laughter in then, taking pity on the young woman sitting before him. ‘But I thank you all the same for your valuable opinion.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She mumbled, her eyes avoiding his. ‘I think.’

‘So tell me?’ He waited until his had reluctantly met his gaze before continuing. ‘Mandarin?’ He had to contain his laughter once more as she blushed again. ‘Hermione.’ He prompted when she hesitated further.

‘Fine.’ She took a breath before she locked her eyes on his. ‘No laughing.’ She pointed a finger at his chest, her expression all business.

‘Very well.’ He conceded, nodding to her demand.

‘I read,’ she narrowed her eyes as she watched for the laugh she was certain would follow her words. When he remained passive she continued. ‘I read somewhere that good spies have extra languages. And as I already know French, Italian and Russian…’

‘Hence Lyublyu.’ He acknowledged, interrupting her.

‘Yes.’ She shrugged again, dismissively. ‘My parent’s loved to travel.’ She offered as way of explanation to his unspoken question. ‘And knowledge, understanding a culture is power. It’s acceptance into that culture. So knowing those already it made sense that I learned something new.’ Her words sped up as she sought to justify her choices, her foray into academia. ‘So, the article mentioned that a successful spy in this day and age would be versed in Russian, Mandarin or Arabic.’ She dragged her teeth over her lower lip as her eyes fell from his. ‘Arabic is next on my list.’ She finished her explanation softly.

‘Can I speak now?’ Severus placed a hand under her chin and angled her eyes back to his.

‘Oh if you must.’ Her tone one of complete resignation. ‘Everyone else thinks I’m bat-shit crazy. Wanting to know and understand so much. So why not you too.’

‘Hermione,’ he attempted to catch her gaze. ‘Look at me.’ He repeated her directive from early and then waited for her to comply. ‘I think it’s admirable. What you were doing. Learning everything you can.’

‘I just want to help.’ She blinked as she felt her eyes well with tears. ‘I just wanted to fit in.’ She whispered.

‘At the beginning.’ He held her face gently, keeping her eyes on his. ‘I get that. I truly do.’ He smiled then. ‘However, I’m not sure how much use Mandarin will be in the wizarding world I the grand scheme of things.’

She felt her tension drain at his teasing. Her lips pulled into a soft smile to match his. ‘You’re an ass. You know that right?’

‘You’re not bat-shit crazy Hermione.’ He kept his voice soft.

‘I’m not?’

‘I have monopoly on the bat.’ He smirked. ‘So you will have to make do with just plain crazy.’

‘I feel so much better.’ She rolled her eyes at him.

‘Then my work here is done and you can stop keeping me awake.’ He deadpanned.

‘Oh my god.’ She slapped her hand on his leg in mock reprimand.

‘You wound me.’ His hand shot to his heart. ‘I’ll tell Sage on you.’

‘You are such a drama queen.’ Hermione giggled again at his theatrics.  
‘Indeed.’ He returned her smile before shifting slightly in the bed.

She saw the grimace he had tried to hide. ‘You’re in pain.’

‘You hit me.’ He deadpanned once more as he attempted to distract her.

‘You need to actually rest now.’ She stood, pausing only as he caught her wrist.

‘So do you Little One.’ He held her gently, waiting for her to acknowledge his statement.

‘Sage didn’t tell me I needed to.’ She shook her head gently.

‘I did however,’ he signed in mock exaggeration. ‘I will summon the elf if need be.’ 

Hermione smiled then. ‘I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.’ She took another step, only to be stopped again, his hand not releasing her wrist. She looked down at his hand for a second before bringing her eyes to his. Her head tilted in silent question.

‘You won’t be alone in this Hermione. I won’t leave you to fend for yourself.’ He held her gaze, his expression sincere.

‘You won’t be alone either.’ She smiled again, her expression soft.

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘No, for better or worse, I have you now.’ He spoke the reality of their situation quietly.

‘You make that sound so final.’

‘It might very well be.’ Severus acknowledged.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The door to the Headmasters study swung open. It had taken bribing of the gargoyle guarding the door, some pretty heft wand work, pleading with the castle and some very choice words but she was finally inside the serpent’s den. She cast a small luminous, the tip of her wand only just glowing as she crept around the space, her eyes drifting to the momentos, the trinkets, the relics and the atrocities Albus Dumbledore had adorned his space with. Apparently Severus Snape had seen fit to implement no changes to the office space he now wielded. She let her gaze flit across the walls, taking in the past Heads of Hogwarts, resting comfortably in their frames, the light from her wand not disturbing their slumber. Pity, she thought. She was certain there were a few in their number who would enjoy the show she was about to deliver.

She stepped around the back of the monumental desk and approached where his portrait hung, in pride of place, dead center of the room, the object of everyone’s immediate attention upon arrival. She glared at the sleeping figure, annoyed at the pompous pride that had demanded his positioning. He did not deserve pride of place. She shook her head as she crept closer still, stopping only when she was close enough to press her wand tip against the corner of the frame. A whispered spell later and she smiled, shark-like as she straightened. With a wave of her hand, the tower office was flooded with light.

Portraits around her blinked as they woke, grumbling in their semi-consciousness. She saw the four founders glance down at her before resting back, folding their arms across their chests. Salazar Slytherin suspiciously had a smile on his face, one that conveniently matched the self-righteous one Phineus Black was sporting in the semi-darkness. She gave them a discreet nod before turning her eyes back to her intended target.

‘Minerva’ Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at her.

‘Oh don’t you Minerva me you, sanctimonious ass.’ She stood taller, her face pinched. ‘How dare you.’

‘How dare I?’ His face a mask of innocence.

‘He was only a child.’ She bit out, her disgust exceedingly clear.

‘It has to be done. Harry will understand.’ He raised his hands to pacify.

‘Harry?’ Minerva screeched then. ‘I was talking about Severus. But apparently there are now two young men you manipulated, used and abused for your own purposes.’ She raised her wand back towards the portrait. ‘Do you have no shame?’

‘I did what was needed. For the greater good.’

‘Oh shove it.’ She narrowed her eyes again. ‘You did what you wanted. When you wanted. With little or no regard for your duty of care.’

‘I…’

‘Do not feed me another line Albus.’ She shook her head as she began to pace. ‘You had a responsibility. To both of those boys and you failed them.’

‘I thought…’

‘Did you?’ She interrupted him again, rounding on him, staring him down. ‘Did you stop to think of the ramifications. Of the impact your actions and your words had on them. Did you think?’

‘I am not going to sit here and listen to you rant if you are not going to permit me to speak up and defend myself.’ He stood, the grandfatherly appearance dropping, his eyes hardening, his lips thinning as he pressed them together.

‘There is no defense Albus.’ Minerva grinned then, her expression purely victorious. ‘And you will sit and you will listen.’

‘I doubt that.’ Albus shook his head and shifted, preparing to vacate his frame. His body froze, his eyes widened as he was propelled back into his seat, a painted replica of the throne he used while presiding over the Great Hall. He turned his eyes back to hers. ‘What did you do?’

‘A little immovebus spell.’ She raised a brow before leaning against the edge of the desk, her arms folded across her chest. ‘I prevented you from escaping, from accepting responsibility for your actions Albus.’

‘You had no right.’

‘Oh I had more right than you had.’ She shook her head, her eyes narrowed, her voice like ice. ‘I actually feel as though you are far worse than Voldemort is right now. And he is just shy of the devil incarnate.’ She ignored the sharp inhales from the other portraits at the speaking of the unmentionable. She caught the Slytherin Headmasters’ eyes, watching their discreet nods of encouragement, allowing their agreement of her decision to bolster her courage once more.

‘That is harsh.’ Albus countered, his face awash with fury, his cheeks reddening.

‘No.’ She shook her head once more. ‘It’s not. It’s valid.’

‘And how, pray-tell have you come to that conclusion?’ He had the audacity to let his eyes sparkle as he waited for her revelation.

‘As Riddle he was sneaky, untrustworthy and always creating some kind of trouble, arrogant in his approach, his self-worth.’ She locked her eyes on his. ‘But as Voldemort he has professed to be nothing short of evil. He hasn’t hidden his agenda. It has been clear all along.’ She narrowed her eyes once more, standing to step very close to his portrait, to block his view of everything but her. ‘But you. You have attempted to gain following and support by pretending to be a caring, thoughtful, kindly gentleman, horrified by the thought of discrimination and anarchy Voldemort so loudly advocates.’ She thrust her finger into his painted chest. ‘But you are nothing of the sort. You are deceitful, manipulative and conniving. You have no one’s best interests at heart but your own. You are selfish and cruel.’

‘I have never done anything as cruel as Riddle.’ Albus returned her glare, his expression self-righteous, his posture closed, affronted.

‘Is that what you think?’ Minerva snapped then, her entire body bristling in indignation as she took a few steps backwards.

‘It is.’ Albus nodded once, definitive.

‘And threatening a student with being withdrawn from school and sent home to his abusive father for being the victim of an attack wasn’t cruel?’ She stalked towards him. ‘Holding a young man to an action he made under false pretenses because it served your purpose is thoughtful? Sending him into danger, having him tortured and altering his medical records to cover is a kind thing to do?’

‘I never had him tortured.’ Albus sat straighter under her accusation.

‘Albus you may as well have cast the blow.’ She shook her head. Her voice sad then. ‘That boy has done everything for you. Everything you have asked. With barely a question.’ She locked her eyes on his again. ‘Because you made him think he deserved to suffer, that he deserved to be alone. You made him feel like he was worthless.’ She stepped backwards to lean against the desk, to place some distance with the replica of the man who had caused so much pain, the man who was touted as the leader of the resistance, the head of the Order of the Phoenix, the figurehead of the side of light. ‘And when he couldn’t get any lower Albus, you ordered him to kill you, knowing full-well that there would be no turning back for him, that he would be persecuted, hunted and even more isolated. Have you no shame?’

‘I did what I had to. To ensure we had a spy.’ He spoke to defend himself again.

‘Did you ever stop to ask what Severus wanted to do?’ She ran a hand over her face. ‘Did you even consider the possibility that if you had asked he would have done it anyway. Instead of blackmailing him and manipulating him through misplaced guilt into it.’

‘I couldn’t take that chance.’ His anger fell away then, his words a mere whisper. ‘I wanted to believe that he would…’

She shot him an incredulous look. ‘He gave you twenty years of blind loyalty. What more did you need to know he was sincere in his efforts, his actions on your behalf?’

‘I just couldn’t…’

‘You couldn’t tell your plan to anyone? To lessen the burden? To ensure all bases were covered?’ She shook her head in condemnation then. ‘Were you that hungry for fame and recognition? To be forever immortalized as the brains behind the movement to take down the Death Eater regime? She stood then, crossing the floor to stand by the window, to look out over the forbidden forest. ‘The irony Albus, when it all comes to light, you will not be seen as the great puppet-master. You will be seen as the fraud you are. The true credit will go to those teenagers that traipsed about the forest, broke into Gringotts and never gave up seeking and destroying the Horcruxes. You will not be remembered you conceited old fool. They will be remembered for their bravery, their tenacity and their unyielding strength as they researched, survived snatchers and torture and completed their destiny. They will be the ones to save the wizarding world. And it will be remembered that Severus Snape made it all possible.’

‘I was the one to point them in the direction of the horcruxes.’ Dumbledore’s expression turned arrogant then.

‘From where I stand Albus,’ she turned back to face him from across the room. ‘You are only the pitiful fool cursed and killed by one.’  
‘I was murdered by a traitor.’ Albus smiled, his teeth bared, his eyes menacing. ‘And that is all anyone will remember.’

‘Not,’ she bit out, her voice crisp as she over articulated her words. ‘If I can help it.’

‘Minerva please.’ Albus switched tactics then. ‘Think of your Gryffindor duty. Your loyalty.’

‘Neither of those belong to you anymore.’ She crossed the room to stand before him. ‘So let me tell you what happens now.’ She held up a finger to silence his attempt to interrupt. ‘You will tell me everything. You will tell me about Harry. You will then apologize to Severus next time we are both in here.’

‘You don’t trust me?’ His affronted look made her smirk.

‘In a word. No.’ She rolled her eyes at his look of hurt before continuing. ‘So you will apologize and then, if I’m still mad at you…’ she paused, stretching out the suspense, enjoying his discomfort, his resignation. She watched the other portraits lean further forward in their frames to better hear her threat. She quirked a brow at the two Slytherins and was rewarded with broad approving smiles as she defended one of their own. ‘I am going to turpentine your mouth off.’


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Ginny glanced around the Room of Requirement, letting her eyes linger on each of the members of Dumbledore’s Army, watching them slowly wake to a new day, another fight. The number totaled over 225 now and encompassed most of the student population. Only Slytherin remained unaccounted for. She let her eyes find Neville’s, watching as he sat leaning against the wall on the other side of the now massive room, the room having expanded to accommodate their numbers as the resistance had grown. She saw his eyes drift from hers to focus on where Harry was, standing rigid at the other end of the room, his wand poised, hex after hex being shot into the constantly moving dummy targets. He had been doing this all night, releasing his frustration, annihilating targets, cursing them to oblivion all under a silenzio spell. And he showed no signs of stopping, of slowing down any time soon. Not without an intervention at any rate.

Standing, she stretched and walked towards the target area intending to be that distraction, the intervention he so desperately needed. She approached slowly, carefully, making sure Harry saw her in his frenzy of fire. She stopped just on the edge and waited for him to acknowledge her presence. His eyes caught hers for a just a second before he lowered his wand, the determination slipping from his face as the weight of his responsibility, his all-night attack finally caught up to him. ‘Are you alright Harry?’ Ginny stepped into the now empty area to comfort her friend.

‘I’m so tired Gin.’ He shook his head before lifting his glasses from his face and pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, trying to rub the fatigue away. ‘I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.’

‘Is that why you attacked Snape?’ She kept her voice low, her tone non-judging, fighting her natural instinct to berate him for his actions, his carelessness.

‘I attacked him because that bloody foul git murdered Hermione.’ He yelled, his tiredness suddenly forgotten. ‘Or have you forgotten that?’ He turned his back on her. ‘Some friend you are.’

‘How dare you.’ Ginny snapped then, her hand finding his shoulder and turning him back to face her. ‘Some friend you are. You endangered EVERYONE in that classroom. EVERYONE Harry. Did you stop to think about that?’

‘I had to make him pay.’ He snarled, his eyes blazing as he attempted to break from her grip.

‘At what cost?’ She held tight. She saw Neville approach where they stood, the tension heavy, the air crackling with unreleased magic. ‘You put everyone in danger.’ Her voice dropped then to just above a whisper. ‘And Snape saved us all. He saved me.’ She shook her head, her eyes tearing up. ‘And I don’t know what to make of that.’

‘You think I do?’ Harry’s voice remained raised, his body stiff, tall. ‘You don’t think I feel bad for putting you in danger Gin?’

‘Do you?’

‘Of course.’ He shook his head then, his body slumping. ‘But I couldn’t just wait and hope he got justice. I had to act.’

‘And killing us all was the answer.’ She felt her voice raise again in her frustration. ‘Harry, you have been acting recklessly ever since you and Ron got back from the Forest…’

‘You have no idea what happened there.’ He interrupted. ‘No idea.’

‘So tell us.’ Neville stepped up beside Ginny, his tall frame offering her comfort against her irate friend. ‘What happened? What was so awful?’

‘I lost her.’ Harry crumbled then, his face falling, his shoulders slumping forward once more. ‘Because of me we were caught. I got her killed.’

‘And killing the rest of us will make you feel so much better.’ Ginny couldn’t contain the sarcasm then.

‘Hold up Gin,’ Ron interjected stepping from the shadows where he had been watching the scene play out. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. What we went through.’

‘All I know is Harry’s justification for killing everyone was because he got her killed. She’s one person.’ She shook her head as she stepped backwards, distancing herself. ‘What about the greater good?’

‘Don’t you care that she died? That he killed her?’ Harry bit out.

‘Of course I do you moron.’ She rounded on him. ‘But I care that you acted without thinking. I care that your actions could have killed me,’ she gestured about the room. ‘Us.’ She ran a hand over her head. ‘You are the beacon of hope. The savior of the wizarding world, and yet you almost killed everyone you are supposed to be protecting. You, Harry Potter are no better than the people we are fighting.’

‘You need to stop.’ Harry took a few steps towards her, only stopping when Neville stood between them.

‘No you need to stop.’ Ginny spoke from behind her protector before pushing him to the side. ‘You nearly killed everyone and then where would you be? With no one left to fight?’ Her voice cracked as she finally succumbed to tears. 

‘It’s ok Gin.’ Ron placed a comforting hand on her shoulder only for her to hurt it off. ‘It’s gonna be ok.’

‘You know I don’t think it is.’ She shook her head sadly, her face towards the floor. ‘How can everything be when I’m so friggin confused.’

‘I don’t understand?’ Ron turned to face his sister. 

‘I don’t either.’ She shook her head again, sniffing. ‘And that’s the problem. Harry’s so set on vengeance that he doesn’t think about the repercussions. And Snape, who would greatly benefit from the bulk of the DA being exterminated in a potion’s accident, endangered himself to inhale all of the vapors, while wrapping me in his cloak and protecting me from the fumes.’ She raised her head to pin her brother with a hard look. ‘If he’s the devil we are supposed to be fighting, why did he save me?’ She turned her gaze to Harry. ‘Why did he issue us with detention with Hagrid for breaking into his office? Of all the things he has supposedly done as a Death Eater this was his punishment of choice. None of it adds up.’

‘I don’t know what you want from me Gin?’ Harry softened his tone, his approach.

‘I think I want you to go again.’ She let the admission leave her lips on a mere whisper as her eyes fell to the floor. ‘We were all safer when you weren’t here.’

‘You know why we came back.’ Harry felt his control slipping, his anger welling once more.

‘You came here for help finding the other Horcruxes.’ Ginny shook her head. ‘But you’re not thinking Harry. You’re so infused with hate, so hell-bent on revenge. Your judgement is clouded. You’re not even looking for them anymore.’

‘And what would you have us do?’ Ron rounded on his sister, his face flushing to match his hair. ‘You want us to leave?’

‘I want you to do what’s best for everyone.’ Ginny held his gaze. ‘And if that means taking the sword and leaving to find the other items on your list. Then yes, I think that’s what I want you to do.’

‘You can’t be serious?’ Harry ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more messy in his wake.  
‘I am.’ Ginny nodded once, definitive. ‘You need to leave Snape-watch to us while you go out an face your destiny Harry. You need to save the world. And you can’t do that here. Not while ever you can’t see beyond your own hate to do what’s right for the greater good.’ She turned her back on them then and walked away.

‘She’s right you know.’ Neville spoke quietly. ‘You can’t do what you need to while ever you’re this distracted.’ He stood taller. ‘And we need you to save us Harry. There is no one else.’

‘So that’s it?’ Ron shook his head, his voice defeated. ‘You want us to leave the safety of Hogwarts, the steady stream of food, the warmth? You want us to wander aimlessly while we try to figure out where the other items are?’

‘I just want this war over.’ Neville kept his tone even. ‘I don’t want anyone else to die.’ He swallowed. ‘I don’t want to lose anyone else.’ He looked between his two friends then. ‘And I think that means you have to go out and finish the task Dumbledore set for you.’ Having said what he needed to say ,Neville turned then and walked away, planning to follow Ginny and make sure she was ok. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Glancing backwards he found Ron’s eyes locked on his.

‘You’ll take care of her won’t you mate?’ Ron’s eyes softened for a second as he sought out her retreating back.

‘Of course.’ Neville nodded once in acknowledgement of her brother’s concern. ‘Like she was my own sister.’

‘Good to know.’ Ron smiled then. ‘I’d hate to have to break your face if you thought of her as a girl and not a sister.’ He watched the color spread across Neville’s cheeks.

‘So you’re leaving then?’ Neville attempted to shift the conversation.

‘That is the general consensus. Yes.’ Ron glanced back at Harry. ‘I think he needs something to refocus on. And I think you’re both right. He’s helping no one being here.’

‘Stay safe.’ Neville held out his hand for Ron to shake.

‘Oh we intend to.’ Ron nodded once more before releasing his hand and striding away.

Neville turned then, following Ginny across the room. It was Saturday. Breakfast was starting in the Great Hall in a few minutes and he was determined to see the aftermath of Harry’s actions.

////

Severus Snape sat at the center of the staff head table, on the god-awful throne-like chair he despised, his fork poised inches above eggs he had no desire to eat as he watched the students come filtering into the room in dribs and drabs as they started their weekend. Their voices were grating to his ears, his head as they entered the room, the pounding left over from having his system flooded with toxins as a result of Potter’s prank. He closed his eyes for a second, stopping the sudden vertigo that fought for dominance, his body protesting his presence in the Great Hall, his presence essential in reminding the students that he was invincible, that rebellion against him would be futile. He watched silently as the students fell into hushed whispers as they crossed the threshold, his appearance at breakfast disarming them slightly, just as he had planned.

Minerva McGonagal stepped quietly onto the Dias, her eyes landing on the sullen form of the Headmaster as he sat, presiding over his subjects from the center of the stage. To the untrained eye he looked just as formidable, as unapproachable as ever, but as she let her eyes run over him she was all too aware of his suffering, his discomfort and of his unyielding desire to be anywhere but there. She smiled down at him as she passed, her expression shielded from her colleagues, her students. She took her place beside him, her robes brushing against his outer thigh as she sat. ‘Good morning Headmaster.’ She spoke loudly, cheerily. She saw the slight wince, the creasing of his eyes before he turned an impassive face towards her.  
‘Minerva.’ His head included, his voice so quiet that she had to strain to hear his greeting.

‘I trust you are well this fine Saturday?’ She continued, non-perplexed.

Filius turned from his conversation to place a hand on her arm. ‘What are you doing?’ He whispered loudly, his attempted discretion falling terribly short as all eyes at the staff table, in the first few rows of the students turning to him. ‘Do not poke the bear Minerva.’

Severus turned to face the small profession, a grin spreading across his lips but not quite reaching his eyes. ‘Perhaps I enjoy being poked, Filius.’ He deadpanned, his voice smooth, his expression carefully blank.

Filius was on his feet then, the jump from the chair making him appear even smaller than before. ‘Are you propositioning me?’

‘I do believe Minerva was the one doing the poking.’ Severus held back the smirk at the affronted expression on his colleague’s face, the little man floundering then for something to say.

‘You can’t talk to her like that.’ Filius rounded on him, stepping forward, puffing out his chest as he attempted to defend her honor.

‘I can talk to her however I like. It’s my school. Or have you forgotten that?’ Severus turned back to face his plate, effectively dismissing the diminutive charms professor. 

‘He can’t speak like that. It’s offensive.’ Filius simpered to his friend, to the Deputy.

‘Perhaps the real issue lies not I what I said, Filius,’ Severus spoke quietly, his eyes not leaving his plate in front of him. He felt Minerva’s hand land on his thigh under her table and give him a squeeze. ‘Perhaps it lies in the fact that I insinuated Minerva would be happy to offer the poke instead of, say…’ he paused for a moment letting his words sink in fully. ‘You.’ He schooled the smile that threatened as Filius choked, spluttering words of indignation before storming off as fast as his shorter legs would allow him. He lifted his head, a perfectly neutral expression crossing his features as he looked along the staff table. ‘If no one else has anything to add?’ When no one moved, he continued, ‘then I suggest you eat the rest of your breakfast and leave me to enjoy mine in peace.’ He turned back, lifting his coffee cup to his lips as staff made a perfunctory show of returning to their brunch before slowly, one by one, in an obvious display of randomness, they departed the table and the Great Hall. 

Once left alone Minerva leant to her side, shifting slightly closer to the man she knew was suffering. ‘Was that entirely necessary?’ She smirked when his eyes met hers.

‘It got them to leave didn’t it?’ He stated, his expression still blank.

‘Well it did that.’ She gave his knee a pat under the table. ‘How are you really?’

‘I am tired.’ He let his eyes soften then knowing the students were on the exit and that no one was there to see them. ‘But unfortunately for you all, I am going to live.’

‘I’m glad.’ Minerva spoke quietly, her voice sincere.

‘Sometimes I’m not so sure I am.’ He matched her volume with his admission.

‘Severus Snape, if you so much as entertain the thought of giving up, of dying on me, I’ll kill you.’ She locked her eyes on his, her narrowed in her glare.

‘You Gryffindor and your blind loyalty. Your sentimentality.’ He made a show of rolling his eyes.

She smirked again. ‘You love it.’

‘Hmmm’ he raised a brow. ‘I am not convinced.’  
‘You can be such a git sometimes Severus.’ Minerva mock chastised.

‘And the truth finally comes out.’ He smiled then, enjoying the look of exasperation that pulled at her lips, narrowed her eyes.

‘Git.’

‘Indeed.’ He stood then, a smile still on his lips, the room empty and unable to bear witness to his banter with his Deputy, his newly found friend. ‘Come, I believe the weekend is upon us and I have a certain lioness to entertain.’

‘I suddenly have the entire weekend free.’ Minerva stood, sweeping her robes out of the way as she turned to follow him. ‘I don’t know who the schedule clearing fairy is,’ she caught his wrist in her fingers as they stepped through the door and into the secret passage. ‘But if I ever figure it out I’m going to kiss him.’

‘Unhand me woman.’ He mock postured, rearing back slighting, attempting to pull his wrist from her tightening grip. ‘That would be a gross violation of his, or her, personal space.’

‘Oh stuff it Severus.’ She squeezed his hand once more before dropping it altogether. ‘I know it was you, and one day, when you least expect it…’

‘Very well.’ He interrupted conceding to her point, her unspoken sentiment that she would always stand by him, treat him fairly and kindly now.

 

‘Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise I will see you this evening.’ She watched him dip his head slightly in acknowledgement of her words before sweeping his way from the passage and towards his office. ‘I’ll make a Gryffindor out of him yet.’ She grinned, turning to head towards her quarters.


	26. Chapter 2

_‘I suddenly have the entire weekend free.’ Minerva stood, sweeping her robes out of the way as she turned to follow him. ‘I don’t know who the schedule clearing fairy is,’ she caught his wrist in her fingers as they stepped through the door and into the secret passage. ‘But if I ever figure it out I’m going to kiss him.’_

_‘Unhand me woman.’ He mock postured, rearing back slighting, attempting to pull his wrist from her tightening grip. ‘That would be a gross violation of his, or her, personal space.’_

_‘Oh stuff it Severus.’ She squeezed his hand once more before dropping it altogether. ‘I know it was you, and one day, when you least expect it…’_

_‘Very well.’ He interrupted conceding to her point, her unspoken sentiment that she would always stand by him, treat him fairly and kindly now._

_‘Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise I will see you this evening.’ She watched him dip his head slightly in acknowledgement of her words before sweeping his way from the passage and towards his office. ‘I’ll make a Gryffindor out of him yet.’ She grinned, turning to head towards her quarters._

Chapter 26

Hermione looked up at the sound of the door closing softly. She felt a smile pull at her lips as she took in his face, the furrow of his brow as he shook his head, his eyes unguarded and amused. She watched as he turned to face her, his eyebrow lifting as his head tilted. She bit her lips together in an attempt to school her features, control the laugh that threatened.

‘Do I amuse you Miss Granger?’ He let the words drip, the sarcasm he was renowned for showing here in his chambers and out of his classroom.

‘Marginally Sir.’ She echoed his use of her formal title, her control on her giggles slipping.

‘Indeed.’ He drawled, his lips stretching into a smile to match hers as he set about removing his robes. He draped them on the hook by the entry to his chambers, his frock coat left haphazardly over the back of the couch.

‘Do I get to know what has you so perplexed?’ She raised her own brow in question.

‘Perplexed?’

‘The frown, the head shake, the contradictory smiling eyes.’ She bit the corner of her lower lip at the look he shot at her.

‘I do not have smiling eyes.’ His narrowed as if to prove the point.

‘Yes you do.’ She ignored his expression. ‘When it counts. You do.’

He sighed then, sitting on the couch. He crossed one leg other the other at the knee, leaning back against the cushions, his arms, his shirtsleeves now rolled to the elbows, resting along the back, his positioning pulling the neck of his shirt open now that he had undone the top two buttons. ‘You Gryffindor.’ He smiled fully now as he shook his head again. ‘Minerva thinks she can convert me you know.’

‘You?’ She dropped her chin and looked at him through her lashes. ‘The ultimate Slytherin?’

‘She thinks she can make me into one of…’ he waved his wrist lazily in her general direction. ‘You.’

‘There is nothing wrong with me.’ Hermione’s eyes widened, her tone slightly offended.

‘Gryffindor.’ He emphasized, shifting the focus from her person to the House as a whole.

‘There is nothing wrong with Gryffindor.’ She shook her head. She watched him smile again then.

‘Perhaps not.’ He bounced his eyebrows. ‘But let it be said, I do not want to be anything like that crazy Scotswoman.’ He grinned wider as Onyx chose that moment to land on his abandoned frock coat, spin twice before rolling to present her backside, her leg extended over her head as she gave two perfunctory licks before pausing, lifting her head and eyeballing them both. ‘As you can see, one cat in here is enough.’ 

She giggled again, unable to contain the mirth at his expression at the turn of events; the cat’s rear-end perilously close to his head, her white fur dotting his previously pristine black frock coat. ‘I’m sure you’d make a very cute cat Severus.’ She managed to deliver as she reigned in her laughter.

‘I see.’ His brow raised again as he locked his dark gaze on hers.

‘All sleek and black and stealthy.’ She continued to tease him.

‘And I’m sure you’d make a perfectly fine, ridiculously fluffy Persian.’ He grinned again, his eyes teasing, their corners creased. ‘I do seem to recall a beast of such description in your possession.’

Instantly her smile fell from her face. ‘Crookshanks. He died.’ She whispered. ‘At the burrow. At Bill’s wedding.’

‘I’m sorry Hermione.’ His voice and expression solemn now.

‘It’s okay.’ She shook her head, stopping the tears before they could truly well. ‘It’s not like it happened yesterday.’

‘No.’ He nodded once. ‘But it is still sad. I don’t know how I would feel if Onyx or LyuBlyu were taken from me so suddenly.’

‘It’s awful.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth and held it for a moment, her eyes closing briefly before she looked back at him. ‘I didn’t even get to say goodbye.’ She swallowed. ‘To anyone.’

‘I know Little One.’ He nodded again. ‘And again I’m sorry.’

‘Severus?’ Her eyes fell to where her hands lay twined in her lap as she attempted to change the topic, but unsure of his reaction she avoided eye contact.

‘Yes?’ He coaxed softly. ‘What is it?’

‘What am I supposed to do when you’re not here?’ She swallowed again before lifting her eyes to his. ‘I mean, you have books and I have my study, but…’ her voice trailed off as her eyes darted to the fireplace behind him.

‘But?’

‘Your chambers are nice. Nothing as I expected. But they’re small. I will eventually read all of the books on the shelves in here and my studies will be finished and you can’t always be here to talk to and Onyx and Lyblyu are cute and all but I just don’t know what I’m going to do here. By myself.’ Her words were delivered rapid fire, all running together on one long exhale. She took a deep stuttering breath at the end of her delivery and then she waited.

‘Well,’ he paused waiting for her to look at him once more. When her eyes found his he relaxed his pose even further; his legs shifting to cross at the ankle, his arms falling from the back of the couch to rest his hands on his thighs. ‘Obviously you will read, and study and as I previously offered, if it is of interest to you, I will put you through a potions apprenticeship.’ He pushed on his hands, using the action, its leverage to help him stand. ‘But as for when the rooms become claustrophobic,’ he shifted to hover in front of where she sat on the opposite couch. He held out a hand and waited for her to take it, watching her lift her hand, pause for a second, her eyes darting between his offered appendage and his gaze before accepting. ‘I have something to show you. Come on.’ As he felt her fingers curl into his he dragged her gently to her feet and pulled her carefully across the room to the corner. He guided her to stand in front of him, one of his hands coming to rest on her shoulder, the other lifting her trapped hand and pressing her open palm onto the stone wall.

She glanced up as she felt the wash of magic rush through her. She saw his eyes close for a second as she felt his chest brush against her back with his deep breath. Instinctively she took a matching breath and let her eyes close too. She felt the magic swell, a warm pulse throbbing gently, rhythmically through her entire body, a feeling of immense calm filling her. ‘What is that?’

‘That is the castle responding.’ He matched his volume to hers. ‘To us. Look.’ He whispered then.

She felt his breath across her cheek as he spoke so very quietly. She opened her eyes following his command to see the castle wall warping from view, vanishing to reveal a doorway opening into the most beautiful garden she had ever seen before. She felt her eyes widen as she darted her gaze around the immense space trying to take it all in; the lush gardens full of flowering blooms and garden herbs. Shrubbery and trees were strategically dotted about the space. Pathways edged around them, concrete seating between, in alcoves and under sprawling branches, giving places to stop and simply enjoy the ambience. The rose bushes flowering in all colors in a bed of their own. The giant purple jacaranda tree, shading the far corner, the Forbidden Forest towering behind it. The crystal clear waterfall that seemed to come from the very castle wall itself. It filled the large pond-like pool at its base, edged in rock. The calming sound of water, of birds filled the air. The garden, though surrounded on three sides by the castle, the forth being closed in by the encroaching forest was open to the sky, the sun shining down, glinting off the water and basking the entire place in its golden rays.  ‘It’s beautiful.’ She breathed.

‘Thank you.’ He pushed her gently through the stone archway then and into the sunlight. ‘It has taken my twenty years to get it to look like this.’

‘You made this?’ She turned to face him, her eyes wide in her awe.

‘I did.’ He nodded, the movement so small that had she not been looking she would have missed it entirely.

‘How?’ Her head tilted as she searched his face for the answer.

‘I’m a wizard Hermione.’ He touched his finger against the very tip of her nose, smirking as she blinked in surprise at his action. ‘I took the poor excuse for the potions garden off the dungeons and I added a few extension charms. A couple of notice-me-not charms and some strong wards render this place completely invisible from everywhere in the castle.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her back to face into his garden. ‘The entire garden is impenetrable unless I have granted you access.’

‘And I can come here?’ She whispered once more, her eyes greedily drinking in everything he had accomplished.

‘Anytime you like. You just have to ask the castle.’ He straightened, letting his hands drop from her shoulders as he stepped out from behind her. ‘Lyublyu and Onyx are often out here too.’ He gestured into the vast space. ‘In fact…’ he let his voice trail off as he emitted a low, single, sharp whistle. He took hold of her hand and pulled her forward into the space, leading her down one of the winding paths, through the gardens towards the pool as he waited to see if his whistle would have a summoning effect. He squeezed her hand, dragging her to a halt as a small white ball of fur came hurtling out of the Forbidden Forest, a flurry of wagging tail and lolling tongue as his dog bounded up to them, dancing about their legs, her excitement palpable. ‘There she is.’ He reached his free hand down to scruff the dog on the top of her head before straightening to face Hermione once more. He let his eyes roam over her features, enjoying the way the sun picked up the highlights in her hair, her eyes, the way her smile grew as she took in his garden, the antics of his ever-amusing canine friend. ‘You are perfectly safe in here Hermione.’

‘I may never leave.’ She looked up at him, her eyes dancing in her happiness at this latest development, the answer to her cloistered concerns.

‘I have a fully stocked private potions lab and a separate double story library to the other side of my rooms.’ He smirked then as her head whipped back to him, her eyes widening even more.

‘I stand corrected.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I just may never sleep again.’

‘I will hex you.’ He let his voice show his teasing.

‘I don’t believe you.’ She giggled softly before stepping backwards as she watched his eyes narrow in mock annoyance.

‘I will…’ he let the threat drip as he continued to shoot a glare in her direction.

‘You’re gonna have to catch me first.’ She took another step backwards, her smile taunting as she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

He tightened his grip on her fingers, as he straightened even more, making himself appear the very essence of the evil Death Eater Headmaster. ‘That can be arranged.’ He pursed his lips as her fingers slipped from his, as she took a few more steps backwards before spinning on her heel and sprinting away, Lyublyu chasing after her. ‘You can run Little One.’ He drawled as he followed her retreat, his larger steps closing the distance quickly. He grinned then as she ducked behind a gardenia bush. He stepped around the other side of the shrub and watched with amusement as she stumbled blindly backwards her head, her eyes directed to where she thought he was. ‘But you can’t hide.’ He delivered his words as he caught her gently by the shoulders. He chuckled then at her surprised gasp, at the way she spun in his loose grip to face him. He let his façade fall as he looked down at her flushed face, her smiling eyes. He let his lips pulling into a smile to match hers.

‘Are you going to hex me?’ She spoke so softly as she looked up at him.

He was about to answer her when movement at the edge of the garden caught his eye. ‘No.’ He whispered, his eyes still locked on something over her head. ‘I am going to do something better.

‘Something better?’ She felt her brow furrow as he watched him observe something else. She turned slowly, his hands still on her, in an attempt to see what had captured his attention. She felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes found the source of his distraction. ‘Oh my god.’ The words, though barely spoken with volume caused their uninvited guest to pause, its head upright, its neck stretched fully, its ears pricked as it assessed the danger. ‘Is that…’ her voice trailed off as he gave her shoulders a squeeze.

‘Stay here.’ He stepped beside her. ‘Stay still.’ He waited until she nodded her agreement before he began to edge his way down the garden.

She stood very still as she watched him move closer, his hand stretched out towards the large white unicorn standing on the edge of the forest. She watched as the unicorn took a tentative step towards him, its muzzle stretched, allowing it to rub against his upturned hand.

‘That’s a girl.’ Severus coaxed the mare further into the garden, his hand coming to stroke her neck, his fingers wrapping into her mane. He continued to pat the animal, a huge smile gracing his face as the mare nuzzled against him for a few moments before turning slightly to nicker behind her.

Hermione felt her head tilt as she caught the corner of her lower lip between her teeth. Everything she had read about unicorns had indicated they were incredibly shy creatures, rarely seen by humans. That only the purest of heart had been able to see the creature. Yet here she stood watching Severus not only stroke one of the majestic beasts, but cuddle a tiny foal into his lap, the baby having stepping timidly into the clearing upon hearing its mother’s call.

‘Hermione.’ Severus called as loudly as he dared, not wanting to startle the foal in his lap nor the mother grazing happily beside him. He turned enough to lock eyes on hers. ‘Do you want to…’

‘To?’ she interrupted.

‘Meet my friends?’ He smiled as she took a few steps forward. ‘It’s ok.’ He nodded then. ‘They know you’re here. They know who you are.’

‘How?’

‘I told them.’ He spoke as though it was the most reasonable answer. Logical in its simplicity.

‘And you just happen to speak unicorn.’ She shook her head slowly as she rolled her eyes.

‘No Little One,’ he motioned for her to come closer, reaching for her hand, taking it in his and guiding it towards the foal’s muzzle. ‘They’re empathic. They read hearts and intentions.’ He smirked then as the mother gave Hermione a gentle nudge causing her to stagger slightly towards him before dropping to her knees beside him. ‘I just had to vouch for you.’

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

_Hermione felt her head tilt as she caught the corner of her lower lip between her teeth. Everything she had read about unicorns had indicated they were incredibly shy creatures, rarely seen by humans. That only the purest of heart had been able to see the creature. Yet here she stood watching Severus not only stroke one of the majestic beasts, but cuddle a tiny foal into his lap, the baby having stepping timidly into the clearing upon hearing its mother's call._

' _Hermione.' Severus called as loudly as he dared, not wanting to startle the foal in his lap nor the mother grazing happily beside him. He turned enough to lock eyes on hers. 'Do you want to…'_

' _To?' she interrupted._

' _Meet my friends?' He smiled as she took a few steps forward. 'It's ok.' He nodded then. 'They know you're here. They know who you are.'_

' _How?'_

' _I told them.' He spoke as though it was the most reasonable answer. Logical in its simplicity._

' _And you just happen to speak unicorn.' She shook her head slowly as she rolled her eyes._

' _No Little One,' he motioned for her to come closer, reaching for her hand, taking it in his and guiding it towards the foal's muzzle. 'They're empathic. They read hearts and intentions.' He smirked then as the mother gave Hermione a gentle nudge causing her to stagger slightly towards him before dropping to her knees beside him. 'I just had to vouch for you.'_

Chapter 27

Harry stepped back from the small fire he had managed to start, from the meagre amount of dry wood he had been able to collect, summon and replicate. The flame was barely even flickering, the wet wood not conducive to much more than producing smoke signals. It emitted no heat at all, his hands extended towards the flame barely caused a rise in their temperature, the fire that pitiful. In fact, when he glanced around the makeshift tent he realized their entire existence was in actuality pitiful; He was wet and cold. His stomach growled in his hunger. His eyes stung from the smoke that was rapidly filling up the enclosed space, his desperation for food, for warmth while trying to remain undiscovered causing him to ignite the fire inside their tent. He was tired and he was angry. Irrationally so. He glared at the fire, attempting to channel his fury into something useful. This was all Ginny's fault. He, no they, he quickly reminded himself, they, Ron and he were back out traipsing about the countryside, trying to stay alive, stay undetected because she had doubted his intentions, his actions.

He had only been trying to seek justice. It had not been an act of premeditated revenge. It had not been premeditated at all. He had seen an opportunity and he had taken it. To make him pay. To get justice for the death of his best friend. For her murder. And now, as a result he was out Merlin only knew where, shivering, ankle deep in mud, in a damaged, leaking tent he had not bothered to check, with dwindling supplies he hadn't bothered to fill in his haste to get away from the judgement and recrimination Ginny, Neville and the rest of the DA had directed his direction. Only Ron remained loyal, able to see why he had taken his course of action, and his loyalty only seemed to go so far; his secret snacking on their stash of food, the constant whining about his discomfort, the lack of a plan, the continual reminders that Hermione had died. That because of her death they were directionless and struggling, starving and unprepared. That Harry just was not as good as she was when it came to preparation, execution and evaluation of their actions, their situations.

Everything they were suffering through, the isolation, the discomfort, the aimless wandering was because she had been taken away from them. And Snape had been the one to take her. He had cast the final blow. He was to blame. When it all boiled down to it, Severus Snape was at fault. He was the bad guy. Voldemort did not a hold a candle to the man who had heinously ridiculed him since he was eleven years old, had played the great Dumbledore for the fool, had executed him and then had moved on to murder Hermione too. Oh yes, Harry decided, it was all Snape's fault. Every last bit of it. And Snape would die because of it. Severus Snape would die. Of that, he was entirely certain.

Severus sat, reclining back against the plush sofa, his legs almost straight, his feet crossed at the ankles. A cup of tea was cooling on the arm of the chair beside him. A book was held, open in his lap, but it was not what currently held his attention. His eyes had lifted, of their own accord, to watch the girl resting opposite where he sat. She lay on her side, curled into his matching sofa, her legs tucked up behind her, his dog settled comfortably in the space next to her, Lyublyu's head on her protruding feet. Onyx was there as well, perched in the dip of the girl's waist, her eyes closed in contentment as she purred softly. He watched, discreetly as Hermione's eyes tracked from side to side as she read the page before her, the book dangling precariously from her free hand, the spine balancing on the couch in front of her. He smirked as he took in the scene; the peacefulness she embodied, the calmness she had instilled on his attention-seeking animals, the serenity of just enjoying the quiet settling somewhere deep in his heart. He dropped his eyes back to his book for a brief second before he heard her softly spoken words.

'Are you done watching me then?' Her voice filled with teasing as she watched his eyes snap up to meet hers.

'I didn't…' his own voice trailed off as he failed to create a reasonable scenario, a plausible denial.

'It's ok.' She smiled then. 'I realize I must look a sight.' She shrugged awkwardly, the action dislodging the cat slightly.

He watched as she placed a hand, the one under her head unfolding to wrap past her face, the position awkward, on Onyx's back to settle her once more. 'I'm afraid I do not follow.' His head tilted as his eyes tracked over her, assessing her and the spectacle she believed she was offering. He wondered just how she could believe she presented anything but an utterly adorable image of domesticity, comfort and if he was truly honest with himself, something he could grow accustomed too; the shared space, the smiling companion, the sense of family it evoked.

'Well, we can't all be unicorn wranglers.' She batted her lashes at him, her grin widening. 'But I've got the cat and the dog covered.' She giggled then. 'Or they have me covered. Probably a more accurate statement.'

'Indeed.' He raised a brow then as he closed his book and lay it to the side. 'Tell me Hermione.' He paused, watching her face as he drew out his question.

'Yes?' She let her book drop forward, opening her face to a completely unrestricted view now, the angle no longer blocking the lower half of her chin, her neck.

'Have you ever…' his voice caught, the words coming to a sudden halt, the teasing expression in his eyes disappearing in an instant as he gasped in shock and pain, his face pinching, his right hand flying to cover his left forearm.

She watched, her concern mounting, as he stood abruptly, spun on his heel and disappeared into the bedroom. 'Well that was…' she began, addressing the now empty room, the cat. His reappearance took the works from her, her throat tightening, her breath catching. She sat, dislodging the animals, wincing as Onyx's claws dug into her hip in one last attempt to stay seated.

He watched as she shifted backwards, curling into herself on the couch, her action taking away the very serenity, the domesticity he had hoped to continue to cultivate, if not purely for ease of their continual comfortable cohabitation. He took a few more steps, his boots now echoing on the stone floor, the silence otherwise deafening. He approached slowly, hesitantly, watching as her eyes widened further, tearing up as she caught her lower lip in her teeth. 'I am sorry you have to see me this way Little One.' He spoke so very softly, his heavy Death Eater robes cascading about his body, the hem dragging on the floor, the hood pulled up to hide his hair, his ears.

Hermione blinked then at the gentleness of his tone. 'No.' she shook her head, deliberately relaxing her body. 'It just took me by surprise.'

'It always does.' He stepped backwards again, turning his back to her as he prepared himself to apparate, to accept his summoning. He raised his hand and positioned his Death Eater mask. He spun, hoping his apparition was quick enough to spare her from the visage of his full Death Eater regalia.

'Be safe.' She whispered as he disappeared from view, the last remaining image of him, his apologetic eyes shiny out from the truly horrifying but utterly passive, expressionless mask that obscured his face.


	28. Chapter 28

_She watched, her concern mounting, as he stood abruptly, spun on his heel and disappeared into the bedroom. ‘Well that was…’ she began, addressing the now empty room, the cat. His reappearance took the works from her, her throat tightening, her breath catching. She sat, dislodging the animals, wincing as Onyx’s claws dug into her hip in one last attempt to stay seated._

_He watched as she shifted backwards, curling into herself on the couch, her action taking away the very serenity, the domesticity he had hoped to continue to cultivate, if not purely for ease of their continual comfortable cohabitation. He took a few more steps, his boots now echoing on the stone floor, the silence otherwise deafening. He approached slowly, hesitantly, watching as her eyes widened further, tearing up as she caught her lower lip in her teeth. ‘I am sorry you have to see me this way Little One.’ He spoke so very softly, his heavy Death Eater robes cascading about his body, the hem dragging on the floor, the hood pulled up to hide his hair, his ears._

_Hermione blinked then at the gentleness of his tone. ‘No.’ she shook her head, deliberately relaxing her body. ‘It just took me by surprise.’_

_‘It always does.’ He stepped backwards again, turning his back to her as he prepared himself to apparate, to accept his summoning. He raised his hand and positioned his Death Eater mask. He spun, hoping his apparition was quick enough to spare her from the visage of his full Death Eater regalia._

_‘Be safe.’ She whispered as he disappeared from view, the last remaining image of him, his apologetic eyes shiny out from the truly horrifying but utterly passive, expressionless mask that obscured his face._

**Warnings Apply…Violence, profanity…**

Chapter 28

‘Severus,’ it glared at him as it hissed his name, drawing out the syllables and emphasizing the s’, its pointing tongue protruding through its thin, overly lined lips.

He fell to his knees, his eyes directed at the floor, his robes draping about him, engulfing him. ‘My Lord.’

‘You killed the Mudblood Severus.’ It began to pace, circling its prey before it moved in for the kill.

‘I did, My Lord.’ He kept his eyes lowered, tracking the movement of his deranged self-appointed lord, watching the hem of the creature’s robes as it drifted in and out of his line of sight.

‘And that pleased me.’

‘My only aim is to please you my Lord.’ He controlled his tone, remaining reverent despite wanting to growl obscenities and insults, to reveal his true loyalties and go down in a fiery, hex-filled blaze of glory and self-sacrifice.

‘And yet I now hear you had Harry Potter in your midst and you let him get away.’ The creature’s voice grew louder with each word, ending screaming as it came to stand directly in front of Severus once more. It ran its long claw-like fingers into his hair, before tightening its grip and yanking his head backwards, holding the man now trapped in its grip hostage, his eyes directed to his.

‘My Lord, I wasn’t in the position…’ he began.

‘And just look at the position you are now in Severus.’ It interrupted, taunting.

‘I have failed you my Lord.’ Severus ground out, his tone as even as he could keep it, his eyes devoid of emotion. He took deep even breaths in an attempt to keep his heart rate from accelerating, from betraying his true fear.

‘I am most displeased.’ It grinned widely then, its serpentine teeth on full display, its eyes narrowing as it continued to glare at its captive.

He felt it then, the ripping through his skull, the gut-wrenching pain as the creature tore through his memories, as it attempted to penetrate his defenses. His chest tightened, his fingers curling into fists, hidden in the folds of his robes where his arms hung by his sides. His breath caught in his throat as he fought to stifle the wave of nausea sweeping through him, his stomach churning in protest of the gross invasion of his person, his mind. He steadied himself then, preparing his defenses, reinforcing his mind. He felt the hand in his hair tighten. It was the signal he had been waiting for, the indication that the creature was tiring, growing frustrated with its lack of progress through his walls. He let the memories tumble forward then, a cascade of carefully selected and manipulated images;

_He watched as one by one the students stood, their benches toppling over at their combined effort. He watched as two of the other servants, other followers; the Carrows, stepped forward to join the students of his former house, their hands coming together in applause as they gave him a standing ovation._

_He watched as Amycus Carrow stepped forward, shifting to the head of the Slytherin table. ‘Oh don’t be modest Headmaster.’ He saw him smile broadly then. ‘You deserve nothing less. Ridding the world of that abomination.’ The words triggered another round of wolf-whistles, applause and cheering._

_‘Enough.’ He watched the students settle, falling silent. He watched the other professors turn to face him, their faces filled with horror and utter hatred._

_‘What did you do?’ He saw Minerva get to her feet, knocking her chair over as she faced him, her voice tight, ice cold, forced, her eyes just as hard._

_‘Why he killed Hermione Granger.’ Alecto crowed, giggling. He watched her join her brother. ‘Saw it ourselves. With our very own eyes.’_

_‘You monster.’ He watched Minerva spin on him, her wand pointed at his chest._

_‘How could you kill her?’ He watched as Harry jumped to his feet and strode down the walkway between the tables, his wand pointed and ready, his glare furious as he approached. ‘You are…’ he watched Harry pause his verbal attack, seemingly lost for the right words to exactly describe how despicable, how vile Snape was to him right now. ‘You disgusting, great…’_

The image, the memory spiraled then.

_‘Then why are you here?’ Harry stood before him, his eyes angry and narrowed, his face flushed red. ‘How are you even allowed to be here? I thought there was a law to prevent murders from teaching in schools.’_

 

The scene shifted again, jumping forward, the entire focus directed on the boy wonder, the supposed hero to the wizarding world.

 

_Harry stood hunched over a cauldron, his face pinched in concentration, a heavy black cloud wafting up, seeping over the rim before spilling onto the table. The black vapor grew, swirling up, blocking Harry and his two companions, the Gryffindors from view. A loud hiss erupted from within the smoke. Students began to scramble from the room…_

 

The world distorted and shifted once more.

_‘As much as I am loathe to reveal this to you,’ Minerva McGonagal stood in front of the Headmaster’s desk, her arms folded across her chest, her stance, her expression radiating pure hostility. ‘In the interest of our Duty of Care in regards to our students. All of our students Severus. It seems that we are missing two.’_

_‘Which two?’ The voice echoed loudly in the memory, the displeasure of the owner obvious through the bitten words, the way they were spat at the other professor present._

_He watched as she pressed her lips together before answering. ‘Mr Potter and Mr Weasley.’_

_‘And you are certain?’ The angle changed as he stood, his eyes pinning Minerva as she stood before him._

_‘Of course.’ He watched as she pursed her lips then, her expression sour. ‘I would not be here if we had other avenues to try.’_

_‘And what is it you want me to do exactly?’_

_He saw her spin then and stride for the door, stopping for only a moment as she glanced back over her shoulder at him. ‘I don’t give a damn what you do Headmaster, I only told you as a curtesy.’ He watched her take the last few steps towards the door._

_‘This is very bad.’ The tone strained now. He saw her pause again, this time turning to face him fully._

_‘Oh Severus, you have no idea how bad it is going to get.’ He saw her take her leave then, the door slamming closed between then._

The memory came to an abrupt end.

‘Do you know now, how bad it is going to get Severus?’ He unclenched his hand, releasing his hair before stepping away, straightening to stand taller.

‘I am sorry my Lord.’ Severus raised his eyes to lock his gaze on his ‘master’s.

‘Your apology is only part of your penance.’ He turned to face the crowded room, their presence briefly forgotten in his desire to delve to the bottom of Severus’ memories, his failures. ‘You have failed me Severus, and as such you must pay the price.’

‘My Lord?’ He closed his eyes, swallowing slowly as the fear trickled down his spine, his action hidden from his Death Eater associates by the creature standing before him.

‘Bella? Crabbe? Rowle?’ He waited as they stood, approached him and bowed, their eyes drawn from the stone floor to flit over their target to then land on him. He smiled widely, enjoying the way their anticipation for what was to come reeked from them, their excitement palpable as they planned their attack. ‘I will leave the punishment to you. He must live.’ With the sentence passed, the decree issued he strode towards his throne, knowing his servants would await his start order. Seated he lifted a hand, gesturing for the retribution to begin.

Severus straightened his body, steeling himself for what was to follow. He sized up his opponents; Rowle he knew would bring physically, not one to shy away from brute force and bloodshed. Crabbe would of course rely on his very obvious dark curses, unforgivable and hexes. He was predictable but no less capable of causing pain. It was Bellatrix, however, that he knew had to watch. She was widely erratic, impulsive, unstable and capable of anything. Her thirst for blood, her eagerness to cause pain, her ever-creative ways to incite harm, these where the very reasons he knew Voldemort had chosen her to play executioner. He let his face remain impassive as he shifted his gaze from the three now standing, primed in front of him.

‘Oh this is going to be fun.’ Bellatrix giggled, clapping her hands together in delight.

It took a split second for the movement, the impact of the fist to his lower jaw to register, his head snapping backwards, his mouth filling with blood. He watched with veiled disinterest as Rowle shook out his hand, stepping back, a stream of obscenities falling from his lips.

‘Cruxio.’ Bella screeched the second Rowle had cleared her line of sight. She danced, holding her wand, twirling as she watched her target’s body writhe, the proud stoic man before her having fallen to the floor, his face contorted, his extremities extended, his back arching under her spell. ‘How’s that feel Sevvie?’ She taunted as she released him.

‘I believe Bellatrix,’ he stated, his voice controlled, even, carefully unaffected. ‘I can’t remember the last time I have a good stretch.’ He raised a brow as he hauled himself back to his knees, his hands coming to fold across his chest. He spat the blood from his mouth, now free to do so before locking his eyes on hers once more. ‘What’s next?’

‘You will…’ her words cut off as she raised her wand, the spell silent, his robes, his frockcoat disappearing in an instant, his white shirt and trousers the only remaining. Another swish of her wand, a thrash and a parry saw small lines of red begin to seep through the white, the fabric plastering itself to his slick skin, the lines of her cuts numerous across his ribs, sides and chest. ‘You will react.’ She growled as he remained rigid, unmoving.

Crabbe took that moment to cast his first of many spells, the impact cracking into Severus’ side, the sound of his ribs breaking loud, audible in the Malfoy ballroom. He heard laughter, spurring him on, he cast again, the man’s wrist snapping to an impossible angle, and yet he watched in frustration as Severus refused to move, to acknowledge the assault.

Rowle stepped forward again, his fist landing with a loud thud into Severus’ right kidney, the impact sending the man forward, his undamaged hand catching his fall. Rowle smiled, turning to face the crowed, basking in the knowledge that he had made the seemingly immoveable man move.

Severus straightened once more and schooled his features. He swallowed, blinking, clearing away blood that had begun to stream down his face from a laceration in his forehead, the incision slicing right through his eyebrow. ‘Is that it?’ He shrugged awkwardly, his gaze locked on Bella’s as he tried to provoke her further, to end this before it could truly begin.

‘Oh I am going to fucking kill you.’ She lunged at him, her wand pointed straight for his heart, her teeth bared.

‘You heard our Lord.’ Severus smirked then, holding his own despite the torture and beatings, watching as Rowle and Crabbe hauled her backwards before she could break the Dark Lord’s decree,. ‘I am to live.’

‘Perhaps we should just fuck him then.’ Lucius stood, smiling as he approached.

‘What is the meaning of this disruption Lucius?’ The Dark Lord turned his head in the direction of his subordinate, watching and the man stepped forward, his head held high, his confidence abounding.

‘My Lord,’ Lucius glanced at Severus for a moment before letting his lips stretch into a lewd leer. ‘It is obvious that our brother is unmoved by physical violence. He does not suffer threats of beatings.’

‘Your point, Lucius?’ The creature snarled then, tiring of the pomp the elder Malfoy employed in everything he did.

‘My Lord, we have failed to hurt him.’ He gestured to where Severus was still kneeling, blood dripping from his otherwise impassive face. ‘Perhaps we should humiliate him then instead.’

‘Luci, you’re a genius.’ Bella clapped her hands together once more in glee, her eyes shining, her teeth bared in a feral smile. ‘I will gladly defile him, My Lord.’ She owed her head once more in deference to him. ‘If it pleases you.’

‘My Lord?’ Severus spoke then, his voice calm, his demeanor subdued by still formidable.

‘Will this be an appropriate punishment Severus?’ The Drak Lord stood then and approached him. He snapped his long fingers, watching as Crabbe and Rowle hauled the man kneeling before him to his feet, his arms trapped behind his back, his chest pulled tight, thrust forward, his shirt disappearing from his body.

Severus lowered his eyes to the floor, his expression a deliberate act of complete submission, his body held tight, his muscles taut in their grip. He let his face fall forward, his hair flopping to obscure it from view as he prepared himself for what he now knew was to follow, his complete debasement and defilement before the gathered Death Eaters. It was not an uncommon punishment for those who had been captured, muggles, blood traitors and the like. It was not normally used for Death Eaters, for members of the inner circle, however, not when their tendency to lean towards the depravity offered by the Dark Lord to fuel and fulfil their basal desires. That Severus did not participate in revels, rapings and orgies was the precise reason behind Lucius’ suggestion of the punishment. His carefully laid façade of the powerful, yet sadly impotent Potions Master was about to be tested in practice as well as theory. 

He let his mind wander, disappearing to dwell behind his internal walls as he felt Bellatrix grab hold of his belt, her fingers unhooking the metal and freeing the clasp. The rush of the leather across fabric accompanied its removal her obvious use of the manual rather than the magical a deliberate choice to bait him further. He let out a deep, slow breath as her fingers then caught his pants, his underwear and slid them down his hips revealing him, in all his naked glory to the room full of interested observers.

He had heard the rumors of course, of his unfortunate disfigurement, the contradictory versions of his grossly undersized, extravagantly large manhood, the humiliating castration that had made him a Eunuch. They were varied and many, all created to complete the dialogue surrounding his refusal to engage in all facets of the Dark Lord’s less savory celebrations, the followers of the Dark Lord unable to fathom that a fully functioning man would not want to participate in a revel or rape  readily available man or woman.

He contained his amusement as Bellatrix let out an audible gasp, her eyes wide as saucers as she took him in. Her hand wrapped about his length, impressive despite the fact it was still flaccid, disinterested in her manhandling. ‘See something you like.’ He kept his tone bored.

‘I’d like it better if worked.’ She snapped at him squeezing him before pumping him up and down,

‘Perhaps it just doesn’t work.’ He paused, watching her for a reaction. ‘For you?’ He goaded then, unable to control the response, to ignore her jibe.

She struck his face with her free hand before tossing her hair, a haughty smile developing on her red stained lips. ‘Challenge accepted.’ She dropped to her knees then, her mouth following her hands.

He shuddered at the feel of her mouth engulfing him, the wet heat oppressive, the indignity of being held, assaulted for the amusement of the almost creature still glaring at him. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, controlling his responses to stimuli, willing the punishment to be over soon, his lack of response speeding up the entire ordeal.

‘Enough.’ Voldemort bellowed then as he dragged Bellatrix away, his claw-like fingers digging into her shoulder before he tossed her aside. He took a step closer, motioning for Crabbe and Rowle to release their prisoner. He watched as the man before him dropped to his knees again, while bloody and bared for all to see, definitely not broken. He smiled then, indulgently as he took in the still unaffected countenance of his usual number two. ‘You have done well Severus.’ He reached a hand down, his fingers coming to rest under his chin, lifting his dark bruised eyes to eyes. ‘It is clear now to everyone, despite your one shortcoming…’

‘Apparently it’s not so short My Lord.’ Lucius called, his voice filled with much mirth his eyes sparkling as he teased callously.

With a flick of his wrist, he silenced the elder Malfoy the man caught unaware, his body tossed across the ballroom floor. A sickening thud accompanied the impact of his body on the marble floor. Voldemort turned his eyes to Severus once more. ‘You have remained strong. Exactly as my chief lieutenant needs to.’ He dropped his chin and held out a hand for Severus to take. ‘Go. Clean yourself up.’

Severus raised, unaided. ‘Yes My Lord.’

‘And Severus,’ Voldemort paused again, waiting for his full attention. He watched as Severus held his gaze, immoveable despite his obvious discomfort, the injuries, his undress. ‘If you find he boy do not hesitate to inform me.’

He tipped his head in acknowledgement of the order, the barely concealed threat. ‘Of course My Lord.’ 

 

 AN// Please leave me a comment or two :-) 

It really makes my day!!!!


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading, curled up as she was on what had been deemed her side of the bed, of Severus’ bed, as a large thud echoed through the chambers. She let her eyes dart to the end of the bed, her gaze falling upon the sleeping forms of Lyublyu and Onyx. Having now ruled them out as the source of the disturbance, she closed the book, laying it carefully on the side-table before climbing from the bed. She approached the door to the lounge with caution, her instincts kicking in, warning her that there may be danger lying beyond the realm of the bedchamber, that whatever, whomever had caused the thud may not necessarily be of sound mind or body. She may be creeping in on foe, not friend.

She placed her hand on the door, her body tensed ready to flee should the need arise. She shook her head then, reminding herself that there was nowhere to run if the security of Severus’ wards were breeched. She swallowed back the fear that was rising as she tried to calm her mind, soothe its doubt and muster the courage to simply open the door and find out who or what had invaded the Headmaster’s quarters.

She pushed the door then and burst through, deciding she had the element of surprise, her hypothesis coming crashing down as her eyes landed on her late night visitor. Severus stood, bloodied and bruised, favoring his side, an arm wrapped about his ribs, his wrist hanging at odd angles to the rest of his arm. His right eye was swollen shut, his jaw slightly ajar. Blood dripped from various lacerations covering his entire torso and head. His hair hung limp, coated and weighed down with blood from a drying head wound. His injuries so severe, his state of undress barely acknowledged except for the Death Eater mask clasped loosely in his free hand. ‘Oh my God. Severus?’ She took a tentative step forward as he wobbled on his feet, his eyes lifting to meet hers.

‘Don’t.’ He tried weakly to glare in her direction, to halt her progress towards him, his free arm shifting to cross his body, to hide himself from her. ‘Stop. Please.’ His voice wavered as his body finally gave out, sending him heavily to the stone floor, his knees taking the brunt of the impact before his entire body folded over itself.

‘What have they done to you?’ She whispered her throat constricting as she choked back tears. She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands finding his shoulders and rolling him as gently as she could to face her. She watched his eyes blink slowly once, twice, before they clouded over as he fell into pain induced unconsciousness. ‘Severus?’ She placed her hand on his throat, her fingers seeking the pulse point. ‘Severus please?’ She swallowed again, blinking to clear her eyes. ‘Oh my god.’ She shook her head ‘I don’t know what to do.’ Her hands slid from his shoulder and throat to cup his cheeks as she held his head off the cold, hard stone floor. ‘Please, Severus, you have to tell me what to do?’ She took another deep calming breath, whispering to him as she tried to bring her mind back to the task at hand, to reign in the panic, the emotions. ‘Sage.’ She called then, knowing the little elf would be somewhere near and able to assist.

‘Yes Little Miss.’ Sage answered as she popped into view. ‘My Severus.’ She screeched as her eyes found him. She clicked her fingers, sending them both back into his bedroom.

‘I really wish you wouldn’t keep doing that.’ Hermione muttered as the little elf began to fuss around the unconscious man in her arms.

‘And I is wishing bad creature leave my Severus alone.’ Sage matched her volume, the elf’s tone far more scathing however. She locked large eyes on Hermione’s. ‘You is to be staying there.’ She pointed at her before phasing from view.

‘I think we’ve done this before.’ She told the man on the bed beside her. ‘She worries about you.’ She spoke soothingly as she attempted to distract herself, unsure if he could even hear her, but determined to continue regardless. In the background she heard the distinct sound of water running. A moment later the elf appeared before her again, her hands on her hips, her eyes determined.

‘You is ready?’ She demanded.

‘For what?’ Hermione barely had time to ask the question before she felt herself transported once more, her body landing waist deep in the large tub in Severus’ bathroom, his head still held protectively in her hands. ‘You is helping.’ Sage nodded.

‘No, I is wet.’ She rolled her eyes as she mimicked the elf’s strange vernacular and sentence structure. ‘Couldn’t I have helped from beside the bath?’ She turned to face the elf, her hands still cradling his head, keeping his damaged face above the water.

‘No room.’ Sage nodded her expression serious. ‘There is no room.’

‘But there’s…’ her voice trailed off as Sage popped form view. She turned her attention back to Severus, looking down on him, her expression concerned for him again now. She brushed a hand over his head, smoothing back his hair, attempting to rinse some of the caked blood away. ‘You have a very strange elf.’ She spoke softly, more to distract herself from the severity of his injuries than to inform him of her opinion.

‘Indeed.’

His voice hoarse, his word slow, sleepy startled her, her attention darting from the top of his head to where his eyes now searched her face. She saw him grimace as his face pulled, his jaw moved with each syllable. She ran her hand over his forehead, brushing his hair backwards once more. ‘What can I do?’

Before he even had a chance to answer her, to scold her or to guide her Sage popped back into the bathroom, filling the space beside the tub with worried witches, having brought with her Minerva and Poppy.

‘We seem to be meeting like this an awful lot.’ Minerva smirked down at him for a moment before letting her concern settle in her features, her mouth pulling tight, her forehead crinkling.

‘You mean, where I am the only one underdressed.’ He did his best to alleviate the tension in the bathroom, his attempted humor falling short, his words punctuated with yet another grimace.

‘What has happened to you?’ Poppy started, leaning forwards, her wand raising. ‘What have they done to you?’

‘It would be quicker to ask what they haven’t.’ Severus offered his voice grim.

‘But they think you’re on their side.’ Minerva could barely contain her aghast tone, her expression horrified to match as her hand shot to her chest. ‘This is how they treat their comrades in arms? Is it any wonder you defected.

‘I defected well before the true nature of the beast became so glaringly apparent.’ Severus squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of nausea, the pain then, his efforts at holding in his own in conversation, the thought that he only switched to the side of light to avoid personal torture become too much to hide anymore.

‘I know that too now.’ Minerva reached forward to touch his cheek, her fingers cool against his overly warm flesh. ‘Rest now Laddie. Let us fix you.’ She turned to face Poppy. ‘What can I do?’

‘Just hold him steady Hermione.’ She nodded once to the young woman still standing in the bath. ‘I’m about to set the worst of it.’ She waved her wand, carving out intricate patterns in the air about his reclined body.

He felt Hermione’s hands gently stroking his head as she held him in the now red-tinged water. He could feel Poppy’s magic, her diagnostics and whispered spells wash through him, easing the pain. He felt his rib pop, the one that had been stabbing him in the side, possibly puncturing his lung slipping ever so quickly back into its rightful place. He felt his wrist relocate itself, its action punctuated with a loud crack and an involuntary gasp that left his lips.

‘You is ok My Severus.’ Sage stepped around to the end of the bathtub, her small hands, her long fingers pressing against his face, holding him steady as she used her thumbs to pry his eyes open gently. Once he was looking directly at her, her eyes boring down into his she began to chant softly, holding his gaze, easing his pain, channeling the old magics to absorb his pain as Poppy reset his nose and jaw. ‘You is ok now. You is better.’ She soothed once the treatment was over. With a flick of her wrist she switched the water in the tub, the blood and dirt disappearing to be replaced with clean fresh warm water. ‘And no you is clean.’ She grinned down at him watching as he reopened his eyes and glared up at her.

‘And no I am on display again.’ He attempted to be mad, to keep the scowl on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the elf.

‘Tis nothing we not seen before.’ Sage grinned widely then, straightening to look between the women in the room. ‘You is Our Severus.’

‘I don’t think I want…’ Hermione began, her smile soft as she watched him slowly sit up, her hands slipping from his face to hang limply in the warm water.

‘Yet it was you that well and truly had me.’ He smirked at her blush before schooling his features, his expression softening to look more carefully at her. ‘Thank you. For helping.’ He glanced at Minerva and Poppy then. ‘All of you.’

‘It was nothing.’ Minerva nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement.

‘No. It was everything.’ He reiterated. ‘You made this much easier. On Sage,’ he paused for a moment, his voice growing to almost a whisper. ‘And on me.’

 

AN//  
Firstly I'm just apologizing for the less than regular updates... life...who knew... all is good just exceptionally busy.

Secondly - please review... it really makes me want to find time to complete the next chapter.


	30. Chapter 30

_‘You is ok now. You is better.’ She soothed once the treatment was over. With a flick of her wrist she switched the water in the tub, the blood and dirt disappearing to be replaced with clean fresh warm water. ‘And now you is clean.’ She grinned down at him watching as he reopened his eyes and glared up at her._

_‘And now I am on display again.’ He attempted to be mad, to keep the scowl on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the elf._

_‘Tis nothing we not seen before.’ Sage grinned widely then, straightening to look between the women in the room. ‘You is Our Severus.’_

_‘I don’t think I want…’ Hermione began, her smile soft as she watched him slowly sit up, her hands slipping from his face to hang limply in the warm water._

_‘Yet it was you that well and truly had me.’ He smirked at her blush before schooling his features, his expression softening to look more carefully at her. ‘Thank you. For helping.’ He glanced at Minerva and Poppy then. ‘All of you.’_

_‘It was nothing.’ Minerva nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement._

_‘No. It was everything.’ He reiterated. ‘You made this much easier. On Sage,’ he paused for a moment, his voice growing to almost a whisper. ‘And on me.’_

Chapter 30

‘Severus?’ Hermione sat up from the couch and watched as he walked somewhat stiffly around the room. He favored his right side, his ribs still not entirely pain-free. He had been pacing for an hour. Ever since Poppy and Minerva had floo’d from his rooms to leave him to his recovery. His brow had been furrowed, his lips pulled tight when he wasn’t muttering under his breath. She could make about a few words here and there if she strained, his actions, his uncharacteristic unrest capturing her attention. ‘Severus!’ She stood then, climbing up onto the couch, grabbing him as he passed, her hands wrapping around his biceps and bringing him to a stop facing her. ‘You’re only hurting yourself.’ She held his gaze, her face so much closer to his with their height adjusted by her position standing on the couch. ‘You know that’s not what Minerva meant.’ 

 

He swallowed, his eyes closing briefly. ‘I do.’ He locked his eyes on hers once more. ‘But part of me still does not. Part of me is so used to be questioned, having my motives doubted.’

 

‘She doesn’t doubt you.’ She tried to reassure him.

 

‘I do know that.’ He acknowledged syoftly, his brow still furrowed in concern. ‘I know its not what she meant. With her comment.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m injured, and tired and prone to overreact.’ He brought his eyes back to hers. ‘But I did leave. I couldn’t condone. I would never…’ His voice trailed off as he struggled to articulate his fears, his true pasts intentions.

 

Hermione cupped his cheek in her palm, preventing him from turning his face away. ‘I don’t doubt you.’ She stroked her thumb across his skin gently, tracing the remnants of the edge of a purple bruise marring his cheek. ‘You saved me.’ She whispered the last words, her voice, though soft so full of emotion, unable to disguise her awe of his efforts on her behalf anymore.

 

‘I did.’ He matched her volume. 

 

‘I’m so sorry you were hurt.’ She let her hand fall from his face to rest against his chest, her palm flat over his heart.

 

‘It’s nothing I’m not used to.’ He shook his head, stepping backwards, breaking contact.

 

‘I don’t care.’ She followed him, jumping from the couch to stand before him once more, their difference in height glaringly obvious now. She caught his wrist. ‘Please rest. Sit down.’ She smiled then. ‘For me?’ She teased.

 

‘And what makes you think I would do something for you?’ He held his face impassive as he questioned her, his mirth contained under the guise of disinterest as he unsuccessfully attempted to channel Professor Snape, nastiest teacher in Hogwarts.

 

‘You have done so much for me Severus.’ She relaxed her grip on his wrist and let her fingers trail down to wrap about his. ‘So what difference would one more action make?’ She took a step forwards, pushing him gently after her, guiding him backwards towards the couch behind him. As the back of his legs hit the cushions she placed her hand son his shoulders and pushed him, seating him on the couch. She placed her hands on her hips, nodding, smiling as she assessed her handy work.

 

‘I fear I may have sold my soul to another devil.’ He raised a brow, smirking at her expression.

 

‘I am not the devil.’ She slapped him gently on the upper arm, watching as he smiled wider for a second before schooling his features, letting his eyes widen in mock hurt.

 

‘You hit me.’ He rubbed his arm dramatically, his struggle to contain his mirth apparent.

 

‘You called me the devil.’ She matched his expression, her eyes wide, her tone incredulous.

 

‘If the shape fits Hermione.’ He let his smile pull at his lips then. He saw her face fall.

 

‘You compared me to him.’ She ran a hand through her hair, wincing as it caught on her curls. ‘Do you really think I’m like him? Like You-know-who?’

 

‘You are nothing like him.’ Severus turned serious then, concerned his jest had offended her. ‘But like the devil.’ He smiled softly as her head tilted in question. ‘You tempt me too much.’

 

‘I?…’ her voice railed off, entirely unsure of what to say to his accusation, his admission. 

 

‘You make me crave company. I don’t hate sharing my quarters with you. Even my cantankerous cat likes you.’ He let the statements fall easily, withholding nothing. ‘I am going to miss having you around. When you’re finally free.’ He shrugged, his expression hopeless. ‘I don’t think I want to go back to being on my own again.’

 

‘I don’t think Minerva will ever let you be alone again Severus.’ She smiled then. ‘And if this doesn’t end, if we can't beat him…’ She paused for a moment as the implication of losing would mean for the world, for her friends washed over her. ‘You’d be stuck with me.’

 

He saw her features grow serious, her teasing fall away. ‘I can think of worse things Hermione.’ He used his voice, his expression to bring her from the thoughts occupying her mind. ‘You know, like death, torture and disembowlment.’ He twirled a hand in the air in nonchalance as he watched her expression morph into humor once more.

 

‘Well, at least your cat likes my company better than dismemberment.’ She playfully tapped her fist on his upper arm again in protest of his comparison. 

 

‘Well I do prefer you over dismemberment.’ He smirked again, watching her for a moment before grabbing hold of her and dragging her towards him. He shifted slightly, re-angling her to land beside him on the couch. He stood, spinning to look down at her, grinning. ‘But I do prefer you over there, and out of my way.’

 

She grabbed the cushion from in the corner and lobbed it towards where he was making his retreat. She giggled as it connected with him, her eyes widening as his quick reflexes saw him catch the pillow and hurl it back to smack her straight on. Her eyes watered from the impact. She blinked, clearing them to allow her to focus on him. 

 

‘I’m sorry.’ He started.

 

She giggled again as she took him in, paused in the door, concern etched over his face. ‘I’m fine.’ She laughed loudly then at his affronted look. 

 

‘You’re not hurt?’

 

‘It’s a pillow to the face.’ She rolled her eyes.

 

‘Mad?’ He remained stationary, watching her warily from the doorway.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’ She stood and stalked towards him, the pillow held loosely by her side, the threat visible and very real. 

 

‘Is that so?’ His eyebrow raised as his fear of rejection faded away, her very approach screaming of good-natured retribution and not refusal.

 

‘Indeed.’ She mimicked his oft-used phrase, his expression as she swung the cushion towards him. She gasped as he ducked under her swing, rushing forward, swooping in to lift her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest as she began to rain blows on his head and shoulder, her movement restricted but her impacts many and deliberate.

He tightened his grip on her with one hand and began to tickle with his other, his fingers finding her ribs, causing her to wriggle in his grasp as she laughed loudly now and abandoned belting him, the pillow dropped to the floor in her attempt to intercept his roving hand. He grinned down at her as she tapped a small ineffective fist against his chest. 

 

‘Stop. Stop. Severus.’ Each word was delivered between giggles and articulated with a soft punch to his chest. ‘Please. Severus.’ She placed both her hands on his chest and pushed herself slightly backwards to look up into his dark eyes, creased in humor as they were. ‘This isn’t helping you rest you know.’

 

He stilled his hands then, watching the way her eyes sparkled as she stared up at him, the way her chest heaved as she caught her breath. He could feel the heat of her body pressed so tightly against him. ‘No, its not.’ He swallowed, lowering her to her feet, stealing her before letting his hands fall away. ‘Okay now?’

 

‘I’m still mad.’ She reached for his hand and dragged him towards the couch. ‘You have to stay. Horizontal.’ She pushed on him, trying to force him to lie down. ‘For an hour.’ He made to protest so she held a finger up, silencing it. ‘Undisturbed.’ 

 

 ‘But…’

 

‘No buts.’ She interrupted. She grabbed the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and lay it out over his lap with greets flourish. ‘Just rest.’

‘But…’ he tried again, watching as she fussed about him, wondering if this was what it was like to be loved and cared for, wondering how he was every going to give it up.

 

‘Just rest.’ She held the edge of the blanket near his chest, her face hovered inches above him. ‘You were so badly injured.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I need to know you’re okay.’ Her head tilted as she regarded him for a second. ‘I need to know you’re healed. I need you to be okay.’

 

He watched as she closed the distance, her eyelids flickering briefly before shutting as she drew nearer, her lips landing ever-so-softly on his. He felt her linger for only a second, the time long enough to steal his breath, render him boneless, the fight to keep active draining as her concern, her care engulfed his senses. He then saw her retract, a deep blush covering her features, a muttered apology leaving her lips as she retreated into the bedroom. His hand came to his lips of its own accord, touching, trying to mimic the feel of her against him. 

 


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

 

Severus strode through his office, his feet landing loudly on the stone floor, his pace, his heavy footfalls so unlike the stealthy spy he was, but he didn’t care. He climbed up onto the dais and shifted to stand behind his desk, the monstrous desk he had inherited from Dumbledore upon his carefully contrived demise. He turned to stare out the window, his hands clasped behind his back, his body taut, the tension radiating off him alarming the occupants of the portraits aligning the walls. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth as he fought to control his racing heart, his mounting distress, his rising anger.

‘Tough day?’ Dumbledore asked, his face a mask of concern as he looked down on his successor.

‘Don’t even start.’ He growled, his back still towards the room. ‘Don’t you even dare.’

‘Come now Severus.’ Dumbledore let his voice drip with compassion, kindness. ‘You can’t still be holding a grudge. , His mind whirred with the conversation he had dragged out of Hermione only moments before. Her description of their plight and their fears, her explanation of the horcruxes the most she had spoken to him in days, since she had kissed him. Since that moment, she had remained polite, but carefully distant, never staying in the same room as him for too long, waiting until he was in the shower, or otherwise engaged to take to their shared bed. He had tried to talk to her, to offer her some form of comfort, to let her off the hook for the action he knew was delivered only in an expression of her concern for his wellbeing, for him. He shook his head, focusing on the anger he felt at Dumbldore’s reckless endangering of lives he was supposed to be caring for, instead focusing on his tirade, knowing he would return to his feelings for the brave little Gryffindor sequestered in his quarter when he had dealt with the manipulative man before him. He spun on him then. ‘That boy is meant to die.’

‘We all have our role to play.’ Dumbledore glared down at him. ‘You of all people should be aware of that.’

‘The beast can’t die.’ Severus growled again his voice low, his throat tight. ‘How long have you known?’

‘Long enough.’ Dumbledore let all pretence of niceties drop then.

‘You sent children traipsing about the bloody countryside looking for unidentified dark objects.’ His voice dripped with accusation, his expression radiated hostility, to the man who had called all the shots, to the wizard who had demanded his loyalty, to the fallible man who had kept them all in the dark.

‘They had a job to do.’ Dumbledore acknowledged. ‘We all did.’ He locked his gaze on the younger man standing before him. ‘You still do.’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’ Severus snapped then. ‘You don’t need to constantly remind me. I am a man of my word. I have vowed to see this to an end or to die trying. I have not once wavered in that resolve. When have I caused you reason to doubt me?’ He heard his own throat catch then, his emotion, his disappointment at being doubted bubbling to the surface. He swallowed, turning away to face back out the window, his eyes aimlessly searching the grounds. ‘I have done nothing but what has been asked of me. Yet you, you have only ever done things that served your purpose.’

‘For the greater good.’ Dumbledore amended.

‘For your good. If everything you…’

‘When.’ Dumbledore emphasised, interrupting.

‘If everything you orchestrated comes to fruition you stand to be honoured as the most powerful wizard of this generation.’ Severus shook his head then, the gravity of Dumbledore’s actions finally settling, coming to light. ‘You had no regard for anyone but yourself Albus.’ He paused for a second, his brow furrowing further. ‘You sent children on a fool’s errand, knowing they would do the hard work and you would reap the benefits.’

‘There was no guarantee they would succeed.’ Dumbledore spoke quietly.

‘You set Hermione Granger to the task.’ Severus turned to face him once more, his hands clasped behind his back as he rocked on his heels. ‘She has never failed at anything.’

‘And how is young Miss Granger Severus?’ Dumbledore smirked then. He raised his eyebrow in insinuation, his voice dripping with it.

‘She is tolerable.’ Severus schooled his features, his distaste for the meddling old man’s direction of questioning, the implication behind his words threatening to overcome his tight self-control.

‘Come now Severus.’ Dumbledore bounced his eyebrows, leaning forward in his frame. ‘I’m sure she is far more than tolerable.’

‘She is a student in my care.’ Severus intoned, his expression neutral. ‘Beyond my responsibility, I do not like what you’re insinuating. You are the only one here to exploit children in your duty of care.’

‘Severus. You will watch yourself.’ Dumbledore snapped then, his expression pulled tight, his usual twinkling blue eyes irate.

‘Or what?’ Severus folded his arms across his chest as he glared back at his one-time mentor, his full time exploiter. ‘You’re dead. This is my school now. You have no influence. You have no control here. Your ego, the curse it gave you made sure of that.’ He tilted his head as he regarded the portrait before him, as he ignored the interest their discussion had piqued among the others witnessing the exchange. ‘In fact,’ he paused again, muttering a silent spell to seal the portrait. ‘I don’t think you deserve the right to be here at all.’ He waved his hand dramatically, breaking his golden rule of no ridiculous hand or wand waving, enjoying the way the old man’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Incendio.’ He drawled, smirking as the flames engulfed the portrait.

Minerva stepped into the headmaster’s office having given the password and climbed the circular step, surprised that she had been grnted an audience with the Death Eater Headmaster during the day, his office usually sealed airtight whenever he was within in order to keep him separate from the Carrows, to give him a moment to plan and to defend. She paused by the doorway momentarily stunned by the smoke billowing out the opened window behind the desk, the flames licking at Dumbledore’s portrait, the oils running from the canvas, the look of defeat, of disbelief on his melting face. ‘Damn it Severus.’ She spoke loudly, her voice abrupt, watching as the man in question spun to face her. ‘If I had known I would have brought marshmallows.’ She smiled then, watching as his expression of anger, distaste, surprise at her intrusion morphed into the widest grin she had even seen grace his face. ‘Feel better?’

‘Surprisingly yes.’ He rounded the desk and came to lean on the edge of it.

‘Should have happened a long time ago.’ The voice came from the far right corner of the office, from Vindictus Viridian, former Headmaster from the 18th century, law abider at all costs.

‘I second that.’ Heliotrope Wilkins offered from her portrait, a smile lighting her face.

‘Oh hell, I third that.’ Minerva grinned watching as a blush rose on Severus’ cheeks at the praise, the muffled ‘Here, Here’s’ sounding from around the room, the display of total support seemingly throwing the younger man for a loop. ‘I’m just sorry I wasn’t here for the showdown.’

‘It was quite spectacular.’ Phineas Black smirked from his position, deeming the Gryffindor’s show of support for his fellow Slytherin enough to allow him to speak to her, to acknowledge her presence completely.

‘So what did the old coot do now?’ Minerva crossed to the seat directly in front of where Severus stood, still leaning on his desk. She watched him fold his arms over his chest as she dropped unceremoniously into the soft chair, a quiet sigh escaping as she relaxed into the cushioning.

‘He questioned my appropriateness with our students.’ His eyes fell to the floor.

‘The students?’ Minerva watched his face although he tried to hide it, his eyes directed to the floor causing his hair to fall forward.

‘Hermione.’ He added softly.

‘Severus. No.’ Minerva matched his volume, her face twisted in concern.

He raised it eyes at her tone. ‘I haven’t done anything to her.’ He hurriedly added. ‘I wouldn’t.’

‘I know Severus.’ Minerva stood and closed the distance between them, her hand coming to rest on his folded arms. ‘I am upset that he would even suggest such a thing.’

‘She…’ his voice trailed off as he glanced around the room. He turned his gaze to hers then, his eyes beseeching her to understand is unspoken issue.

‘Perhaps we could take this discussion somewhere more private?’ She suggested catching what he was imploring her to see, knowing he needed to be able to talk freely.

‘Might I remind you that we are honor bound to support the current Headmaster, to keep his secrets and to offer guidance when required.’ Helga Hufflepuff sat forward, her expression warm as she looked down on the distressed Headmaster, her heart full of compassion having witnessed his struggles, his servitude and reliability over the years.

‘You can speak freely here son.’ Salazar Slytherin smirked down at the newest member of his house to hold the Headmastership. ‘I can guarantee you we have seen and heard it all, and you we support wholeheartedly.’

‘What is worrying you Severus?’ Minerva came to rest beside him, her hand on his thigh.

‘She kissed me.’ He whispered his eyes still directed towards the floor.

‘I know.’ Minerva patted his leg gently.

‘You don’t understand. She kissed me.’ Severus shook her head. ‘Me. The despicable, unlovable ugly Severus Snape. She kissed me Minerva.’

‘I know Severus.’ She repeated, her voice louder now, but still full of understanding, of compassion.

‘Wait?’ His head snapped up at her words as they finally sunk in. ‘You know.’

‘I do. She told me.’ She answered his unspoken question.

‘And you’re not disgusted?’ He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘With me?’

‘Oh Severus.’ She adjusted her position so she was able to wrap her arms around him and pull him close. ‘I am not disgusted with you.’ She started to rub her hand up and down his back. ‘I am disgusted with a great many people, myself included for how I have treated you, but I am not disgusted with you or by you.’ She leant back then allowing her to look into his eyes. ‘Now you listen to me young man.’ She smiled slightly as his eyes narrowed. ‘Oh yes, compared to me you are a young man, in the prime of your life. You are not despicable, or undesirable. You are powerful, and generous and kind.’ She held up a finger to bring his objection to a halt before it could start. ‘You are the epitome of tall dark and handsome.’ She nodded at the disbelief in his eyes. ‘You are intelligent and I would imagine so very much what Hermione would look for in a man.’

‘She would never choose me.’ He shook his head again. ‘If she had a choice.’

‘You are very much mistaken there Severus.’ Minerva countered.

‘Then why has she avoided me for the last ten days?’ His voice was so strained, so broken it hurt her heart.

‘She thinks she embarrassed you. Made you feel uncomfortable.’ Minerva spoke quietly, her face serious then. ‘She has been most distraught this past week.’

‘She told you this?’ He raised his head to hers once more and searched her face for any sign she was misleading him.

‘This and more.’ Minerva smiled gently.

‘Why?’ He shook his head.

‘Ladies talk Severus.’ She indulged.

‘She could have talked to me.’ He pouted a confusion of emotions coursing through him; hurt that he had not known Hermione and Minerva had discussed him in depth, relieved that she had opened up to someone and sought advice, disappointed that she had not felt comfortable to confide in him.

‘She was afraid you wouldn’t listen. That you would deem her too young, or label her as purely fulfilling a need with the only option available.’ She let her words, their implication sink in.

‘And isn’t she?’ He held her gaze, an eyebrow raised in question.

‘Severus that girl does not do anything lightly. She would not pick you if she truly did not want you.’ She shook her head. ‘She spent almost a year in only Potter and Weasley’s company and she did not pick them.

‘That she didn’t.’ Phineas offered, knowing he had played witness to a lot of what had happened among the trio as they searched for the horcruxes, as they attempted to survive the unforgiving wilderness. ‘She defended you when they belittled you and cursed your name.’ 

‘That girl is also nearly twenty-two.’ Minerva raise her own brow to match his expression. ‘It is okay to care for her. To even love her.’

‘And what happens when all this is over? When I have to let her go again?’ He close his eyes in anguish.

‘I am sure you have contingencies. Perhaps she will be one of those?’ Minerva gave him a nudge with her shoulder as they now sat side-by-side, resting against his desk.

‘I have certain things in place should the inevitable happen.’ He nodded once before standing, shifting back to look out the window, the smouldering frame of Dumbledore’s portrait in his peripheral vision. ‘If we win, she will be free. To choose.’

‘And will you let her chose you?’ Minerva asked, shifting back into the chair so she could watch him.

‘If I live. Yes.’ He nodded once, his back still to her. ‘I will let her choose whatever, whomever she wants.’

‘And if we do not win?’ Minerva spoke in search of answers to the worst possible scenario.

‘I have provisions in place.’ He turned back to face her. ‘I have a house, in the very north of Wales. Unplottable, undetectable, isolated. It is manned by elves and charmed to make it fully elf-sufficient.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘If the Dark Lord wins and I am dead I have tasked Sage with taking Hermione, you and Poppy to the house. She will then begin efforts to secret all remaining Order Members to safety. I have commissioned new portrait frames for the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. They hang in my library. I very much hoped you all would be able to stage a resistance or a mutiny from there.’

‘And if you live Severus?’ She felt her brow furrow as she realized his plans catered to everyone’s wellbeing and safety and not his own. ‘Please tell me you do not plan to stay in servitude to the despot?’ Her voice cracked with emotion then.

‘It is the best position for me. To be on the inside.’ He spoke, his tone, his expression defeated.

‘Your best position is to live for yourself.’ Minerva stood once more. ‘You have to promise me you will escape too. You will come with the resistance. You will let her choose to love you.’

‘That would be abandoning the cause.’ He shook his head.

‘No, it would be reassessing.’ She stopped for a second. ‘It would be living. Finally living Severus.’

‘I will take it under advisement.’ He conceded.

‘If you do not, I will never speak to you again.’ Minerva narrowed her eyes at him, a slight smile pulling at her lips countering her narrowed gaze, her tone.

‘If I am dead, I will hardly find that cause for concern.’ He raised a brow as he deflected her false threat.

‘You’re impossible.’ She smiled completely then.

‘Indeed I am.’ He matched her smile with one of his own.


	32. Chapter 32

_‘If the Dark Lord wins and I am dead I have tasked Sage with taking Hermione, you and Poppy to the house. She will then begin efforts to secret all remaining Order Members to safety. I have commissioned new portrait frames for the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. They hang in my library. I very much hoped you all would be able to stage a resistance or a mutiny from there.’_

_‘And if you live Severus?’ She felt her brow furrow as she realized his plans catered to everyone’s wellbeing and safety and not his own. ‘Please tell me you do not plan to stay in servitude to the despot?’ Her voice cracked with emotion then._

_‘It is the best position for me. To be on the inside.’ He spoke, his tone, his expression defeated._

_‘Your best position is to live for yourself.’ Minerva stood once more. ‘You have to promise me you will escape too. You will come with the resistance. You will let her choose to love you.’_

_‘That would be abandoning the cause.’ He shook his head._

_‘No, it would be reassessing.’ She stopped for a second. ‘It would be living. Finally living Severus.’_

_‘I will take it under advisement.’ He conceded._

_‘If you do not, I will never speak to you again.’ Minerva narrowed her eyes at him, a slight smile pulling at her lips countering her narrowed gaze, her tone._

_‘If I am dead, I will hardly find that cause for concern.’ He raised a brow as he deflected her false threat._

_‘You’re impossible.’ She smiled completely then._

_‘Indeed I am.’ He matched her smile with one of his own._

Chapter 32

Severus approached the door to his chambers quietly, his thoughts still on his conversation with Minerva. Would it be so bad? He wondered. To let her in, let her get close. To feel something more for her? He shook his head, his brow furrowed as he then remembered that currently it was she who was not letting him in, it was she who was avoiding him as much as she humanly could while confined solely to his rooms, his garden. He paused for a moment, schooling his features before he opened the door to his chambers and entered into the living room. Instantly he was on high alert, the scent of something burning assaulting his senses, the acrid smell wafting into his nostrils. He frowned again before striding across the room towards the kitchen, following the smoky haze that beckoned to him. His body jerked to a halt in the archway at the sight that greeted him. He watched, in horror as the scene unfolded in slow motion before him. Hermione stood by the small table, her face distraught as she turned to place the tray she was holding onto the bench beside her. He watched in horrified fascination as whatever she had reduced to charcoal rolled as she moved, sliding from the tray to fall to the stone floor. It bounced once before coming to a stop by her feet. He felt a smile pull at his lips as Lyublyu raced in, snatched the object and absconded from the kitchen, her prize held protectively in her teeth.

‘No. Stop.’ Her wide eyes tracked the dog’s movement before coming to a rest on his boots, travelling up his legs, across his chest to land squarely on his, their gazes locking. She dragged her teeth over her lower lip before promptly bursting into tears, her unbridled emotion causing her to drop the tray, the sound of it hitting the bench seemed to jolt her into action, her hand slamming down to halt its trajectory onto the floor, the touch only an instant, but enough to have her flinch, hiss loudly and withdraw her wounded palm as quickly as she had placed it on the tray. The oven dish clattered to the floor, causing her to jump once more, she shoulders shuddering as she turned away. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She whispered, her body folding in on itself as she knelt down onto the floor in an attempt to gather up the other fallen items. ‘I’m sorry.’

He crossed the room, moving carefully, watching her blow on her injured hand as she tried to keep her face hidden from his view, her hair falling over it. He crouched behind her and wrapping his arms about her he dragged her to her feet, his concern more on her burnt hand than the accidental spillage and pilfering he had played witness to. ‘It’s okay.’ He spoke softly as he guided her, her back pressed against his chest, towards the sink. He slid one hand down her arm, wrapping his long fingers about the wrist of her injured hand and directed it, palm up under the now running cool water in his kitchen sink. ‘This will help.’ His lips brushed the rim of her ear as he spoke his reassurance. He could feel her trying to reign in her emotions, her shudders against him lessening with each breath she took.

She took a deep breath as the running water cooled the stinging burn of her palm. She closed her eyes listening to the sound of it as it washed over her hand and disappeared down the drain. Soon she found her focus drawn from the water to the sound of his breathing, deep and even, to the way his chest brushed against her more soundly with each inhale, to how the strands of her hair near her ear moved ever so slightly as he then exhaled. She took another deep breath, matching her timing to his before straightening, standing taller in his arms. ‘I’m sorry.’ She spoke slowly now having calmed significantly since her first outburst of tears.

He leant forward more, allowing him to look down on her face. He saw her eyes were still focused where he cupped her hand gently in the water spray. ‘You think I’m mad at you?’

‘I would be.’ Her voice quavered slightly as she spoke her condemnation of her own perceived misdeed.

‘And why is that?’ He kept his voice soft, his tone gentle.

‘I have been nothing but horrible to you.’ She shook her head, her action rubbing the back of her head against his chest, her hair catching on his coat, tangling in his buttons. ‘Avoiding you.’ She turned in his arms to face him, however her eyes focused squarely on his chest as she actively avoided his gaze. ‘And then when I go and try to do something nice for you. I wanted to cook for you. But like always, I’m a terrible cook. And I got distracted and it burned and I ruined everything.’ Her words sped up as she listed her perceived wrongdoings before she took another deep breath, her eyes lifting to find his. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘You forgot to mention you dropped part of it on the floor.’ He smiled down at her as she blushed, her eyes closing for a moment as she shook her head.

‘I did that too.’ Her hand came up to press against her mouth as she remembered. ‘And then Lyublyu stole it.’ Her hand dropped away as she smiled, bringing her gaze back to his. ‘Your dog.’ She poked him in the chest gently. ‘That’s right. Your dog stole my lamb.’

‘Oh, that’s what that was.’ His eyes widened in mock surprise as he continued to grin down at her as he teased her.

‘The dog or the lamb?’ She mimicked his expression and his tone.

He schooled his features then, letting his gruff Professor Snape, Potions Master, bastard extraordinaire take over. ‘I believe, Miss Granger, I am capable of identifying a dog when I see one.’ His evil demeanor broke as he grinned once more. ‘The lamb however, I will admit took me a moment longer to recognize.’

‘I know.’ She shook her head, dropping her arms down by her sides in resignation. ‘I should have known I couldn’t do it.’

‘You said you got distracted. In your explanation.’

‘You’ll tease me.’ She shook her head, her eyes dropping to the floor.

He placed a finger under her chin and angled her eyes back to his. ‘I’m already teasing you Little One.’ He smiled gently as she nodded minutely in recognition in his grip. ‘How could it get worse?’

Her eyes closed. ‘I was reading.’ She whispered her admission.

‘You were reading.’ He repeated her statement, his smile growing before he then burst into laughter, his head dropped back, his arms tightened around her as he pulled her closer to his chest and held her tightly. After a moment he caught himself, bringing his laughter back into check. He looked down on her upturned face. ‘You were reading.’ He stated once more, a hand coming up to cup her cheek, to hold her in place. ‘Hermione, you are,’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘Utterly delightful.’ He completed his sentence as he withdrew.

‘But I ruined the dinner I was trying to make you. I burned it.’ Her wide eyes assessed him, watching him continue to smile as he looked down at her.

‘And you think I should be mad?’ He stated, his voice even.

‘I filled your rooms full of smoke.’

He waved a hand sending a wordless clearing spell throughout his chambers. ‘All fixed.’ He held her gaze.

‘I wanted to do something nice for you.’ She whispered.

‘Just having you here is nice.’ He matched her volume. He saw her swallow at the intensity of his words, his sentiment.

‘I have been avoiding you.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I’m sorry. It was deliberate on my part.’

‘Why have you been avoiding me?’ He chose to let her admission of the deliberate nature of her acct go. He saw her shake her head, her eyes downcast once more. ‘I’m not mad, Hermione.’ He lifted her eyes back to his. ‘I just wish to understand.’

‘I crossed a line.’ She let her eyes drift to the side, avoiding his gaze as she spoke.

‘I erased the line.’ He nodded once. ‘The minute I brought you here.’

‘I made you uncomfortable.’ Her palms landed on his chest as though she meant to push him away, to distance herself.

He held her tighter. ‘Do I look uncomfortable?’ He quirked an eyebrow as he looked down at her.

‘I…’ Her throat tightened, stopping her words.

‘You?’ He encouraged. ‘You what Hermione?’

‘I like you more than I should.’ Her words, her admission tumbled from her unbidden then. Her face flushed, the blush spreading across her cheeks, down her throat and to her chest.

‘Is that such a bad thing?’ He spoke the words softly, his hands stroking her arms as he held her against him.

‘Only if you don’t like me back.’ The words, her fear blurted from her before she could control them.

‘You think I don’t like you?’ His brow furrowed then in concern, in confusion.

‘I don’t know what to think anymore.’ She shook her head, her eyes falling to stare at his chest. They filled with tears. She blinked. Clearing them. ‘Everything has changed. Everything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think, or believe, or do.’ She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, a hand forming into a fist where it rested against his chest. She braced her arm, pushing backwards, pushing away slightly. ‘All I know is how I feel…’ her voice trailed off then leaving him to wonder.

‘And how do you feel Hermione?’ He placed his hand over her fist, his thumb stroking her skin, urging her to relax, to release the tension that curled her fist so tight as it pressed hard against him. ‘You can tell me Little One. I won’t bite.’

‘That’s the problem. I might want you to.’ The words were released on a deep, slow exhale. One filled with resignation. ‘I don’t fear you. I trust you implicitly. And then even more.’ She smoothed her hand flat, pressing her palm over his heart feeling it beat steadily. She kept her gaze on the back of his hand, watching as he held hers to his chest. ‘I don’t want to see you hurt. I like you so very much, it scares me.’ She lifted her eyes to his then, holding them as she whispered her final admission. ‘I don’t regret being brought here by you. I will regret not being able to keep you when all this is done.’

His head tilted then as he looked down on her, her tear-filled eyes filled with embarrassment, and hope. The way she dragged her teeth over her lower lip, making him want to fulfill the request, to nibble so very gently on that lip, to catch her intake of breath as he sucked it into his mouth. His brow furrowed once more as he watched the doubt and uncertainty creep into her gaze before she angled her eyes from his. ‘Hermione.’ He whispered. A hand snaked back around her, pulling her flush against his chest once more. The other rose to cup her neck, the base of her head, his fingers tangling into her hair as he cradled her head. ‘It was remiss of me. Forgive me?’ He held her gaze, watching as her eyes widened, as her pupils dilated and darkened.

‘Severus, I…’ Her words her abruptly cut short as his mouth covered hers, his lips pressing ever so gently as his thumb stroked the smooth skin of her cheek.

He let his lips play over hers, moving with hers for the space of two long lingering breaths before he lifted his head to look back down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed. He watched as they opened slowly. As she took a deep breath. He saw the question in her eyes at his action, and at his withdrawal. ‘I should have made my feelings clear Little One. It was wrong of me to leave you for so long. To leave you wondering.’

‘You…?’ she words failed her, her question left unarticulated.

‘The feeling is more than mutual Hermione.’ He smiled gently then. ‘I did not wish to scare you away, the cretinous old Death Eater Headmaster praying on the hapless young woman trapped in his chambers.’

She reached her hand up to rest against his cheek, mimicking part of his hold on her. ‘I am not scared Severus. I didn’t avoid you out of fear.’ She saw his eyebrow raise. ‘I did it out of respect.’ She shook her head, her eyes dropping to his chest of a second before she found his gaze once more and held it. ‘But it didn’t come across like that.’ She lifted her other hand and cupped his other cheek, holding his face gently between her palms. ‘I have taken everything of yours. Your rooms, your bed, your books, I even tried to burn down your kitchen.’ She nodded at the small smile that pulled on his lips, returning with one of her own. ‘I didn’t want to force myself into your heart. I didn’t want to force my desire onto you. I wanted you to have that choice. I wanted you to choose.’

‘And if I choose you?’ His hands fell to rest on her hips.

She felt the weight in her chest release. Her smile spread wider. ‘Then you are choosing to kiss me again.’

He bowed his head slightly, his own smile morphing into a smirk of pure evil. ‘As you wish.’ He heard her giggle as his lowered his head, millimeter by excruciating millimeter, drawing out his approach, watching her as he breath hitched, as the giggles halted as abruptly as they started. He felt her hands slip from his cheeks to his shoulder, her nails making contact through his coat as his clenched her hands. He watched her eyes flutter closed as he drew even closer still. He held himself in check for a moment longer, savoring the anticipation, her torture, his desire. He chuckled softly as she thumped him, her hand shifting quickly from his shoulders to his chest again to deliver the blow. And then his lips were on hers again, moving rapidly, his respiration increasing with his passion, his ardor, her body trembling in his arms as his tongue delved to capture hers as she gasped for more air while simultaneously keeping her mouth pressed to his. He felt his breath being stolen as she tightened her grip, a hand weaving into his hair, pulling him closer, sealing their mouths together.

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 AN- I am so very sorry for the delay.

Please review! I love and crave your comments, thoughts and feelings. Please don’t leave me wondering :-P

 


	33. Chapter 33

_‘I have taken everything of yours. Your rooms, your bed, your books, I even tried to burn down your kitchen.’ She nodded at the small smile that pulled on his lips, returning with one of her own. ‘I didn’t want to force myself into your heart. I didn’t want to force my desire onto you. I wanted you to have that choice. I wanted you to choose.’_

_‘And if I choose you?’ His hands fell to rest on her hips._

_She felt the weight in her chest release. Her smile spread wider. ‘Then you are choosing to kiss me again.’_

_He bowed his head slightly, his own smile morphing into a smirk of pure evil. ‘As you wish.’ He heard her giggle as his lowered his head, millimeter by excruciating millimeter, drawing out his approach, watching her as he breath hitched, as the giggles halted as abruptly as they started. He felt her hands slip from his cheeks to his shoulder, her nails making contact through his coat as his clenched her hands. He watched her eyes flutter closed as he drew even closer still. He held himself in check for a moment longer, savoring the anticipation, her torture, his desire. He chuckled softly as she thumped him, her hand shifting quickly from his shoulders to his chest again to deliver the blow. And then his lips were on hers again, moving rapidly, his respiration increasing with his passion, his ardor, her body trembling in his arms as his tongue delved to capture hers as she gasped for more air while simultaneously keeping her mouth pressed to his. He felt his breath being stolen as she tightened her grip, a hand weaving into his hair, pulling him closure, sealing their mouths together._

 

Chapter 33

Severus scowled as he watched the banes of his existence cross the threshold of his office, breach the sanctity of his space and dare to disturb him with what he knew would be something most petty and trivial. He sat straighter, taller in the swiveling wingback chair, knowing his position, raised on the dais as it was, would make him appear all the more foreboding. His scowl, his tightly knitted brows, the press of his lips in displeasure just added to his appearance. Of course, with the Carrows, he did not need to fake the emotion. He watched as Alecto simpered, stepping behind her brother, pushing him forward, clearly indicating her desire for him to break whatever news they felt it pertinent for him to know. He watched Amycus attempt to jab an elbow into his sister's side as he stepped away, shaking his shoulders out before the pig of a man turned to face where he sat, watching, glaring. 'What?' He snapped, no longer wishing to watch them battle out their sibling rivalry in the confines of his office.

'The others Headmaster.' Aymcus started only to be interrupted.

'The others? The other what? Who?' Severus leant forward onto his desk, his elbows on the hard wood, his hands steepled together, his fingers pressing on his lips, holding back the wrath of words he wished to fire at the incompetent duo the Dark Lord has bestowed on him, burdened him with.

'Professors.' Alecto offered from her place beside the door. 'The other professors. We thought you'd like to know...' Her voice trailed off at the look he directed towards her. She took an involuntary step back, hoping beyond hope that she had not breeched the newly enforced distance the Headmaster had insisted on being maintained. She swallowed her fear back as she saw his eyes narrow even further. It had been a mistake to proposition him so soon into her placement at the school. She knew that now. She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, her chin dropping forward to let her look up at him through her lashes, a look she hoped was both appealing and distracting enough to make him forget his anger at her and perhaps take her up on the offer to let her warm his bed at night. She saw his head tilt and one deliciously wicked brow raise at her before he directed his blank gaze back towards her brother. She knew in that instance she had been dismissed entirely, as a professor, as a co-conspirator and as a woman. 

She clenched her fists, her knuckles cracking beside her, determined now to make him see the error of his ways. It was not right or proper for a reasonably young single powerful man, a man in the prime of his life to run a school full of young women, ripe for the picking. It was indecent really. He needed to be married. To portray to the world the outward image the Dark Lord wished to create, a world of propriety and upheld old values and customs. Oh yes, she decided, Headmaster Snape needed to have a woman in his bed. And she was just the woman. A woman who would not curtail his darker nature, his desire for even more power, for lust and for debauchery. Oh no, she didn't care who or what he did during his days, providing she was on the receiving end of his baser nature when the sun set and the day was done. She knew, watching him now that he was the man she most desired; high ranking in the Dark Lord’s agenda, part of the much coveted inner circle, powerful in his own magic, firm in his beliefs, steadfast in his dedication to the cause, to his role as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft and more importantly, deliciously virile, strong and awe-inspiring in himself. He exuded power and evoked fear. It would be a lucky woman that managed to call him hers. And for him to claim her. Alecto Carrow. Alecto Snape. Professor Alecto Snape. Oh yes, he was a man she would be proud to leave her familial ties for. He was a man, while not classically handsome, that drew attention and kept it. She was the man she was going to convince to marry her, and she also knew, given her last audience with the Dark Lord that she was owed a favor. If Severus Snape did not come around to her way of thinking on his own, she wouldn’t hesitate to cash in on that favor and proposition the Dark Lord for the man's arranged marriage. And she knew the Dark Lord, if approached at the right moment would not deny her request. Her desire would guarantee more soldiers for the Dark Lord’s army, a plethora of loyal babies spawned just to please him. Oh yes, she smiled then, her plan was fool-proof. Severus Snape was as good as hers.

 

'And what is it you thought I'd would like to know?' Severus directed his question towards the brother deliberately ignoring the way the menace of a sister was staring at him as though she wished to devour him whole.

'They're staging a coup.' Amycus offered. 'The professors.'

'I'm impressed you even know that word Carrow.' He deadpanned, his face entirely devoid of emotion as he continued to stare down at the man. He watched as he shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

'They're up to something Headmaster. Something they shouldn't.' Alecto stood taller, stepping forward to stand beside her brother once more. Her hand trailed down his arm, her fingers linking in his as she declared their solidarity towards the cause.

'They need to be stopped.' Amycus gave her fingers a small squeeze of acknowledgement.

'I hardly think you are the appropriate people to stop them then.'  Severus postured, enjoying the look of fury that flashed across their equally unattractive faces. 'This is MY school. I am the Headmaster after all.'

'That is why we are here.' Amycus snapped, his fury barely controlled. Another squeeze from his sister saw him attempt to school the frustration, his disappointment and resentment that the Dark Lord had elected Snape as Headmaster over himself. 'As Headmaster you need to be aware of EVERYTHING going on in YOUR school.' His stressed words, his thinly veiled accusation fell as he intended. He watched the Headmaster's eyes narrow even further as he stood, his movement smooth, powerful, menacing. 

'And what exactly is it you think I don't know?' He took a few gliding steps around the desk, stepping down from the dais to stalk towards them. 'The fact that the other professors are currently gathered, as we speak, in Professor Flitwick's office?' He stepped closer still, watching as despite their feigned bravado they both took a small step backwards in retreat. 'That they did not in fact invite the pair of you,’ he spat the words, his distaste so very obvious, ‘to their little impromptu gathering for Professor Trelawney's birthday?'  

‘Did they invite you?’ Amycus attempted to fire back, his face twisted in misguided pleasure at what he thought the answer to that question would be.

‘Indeed.’ Severus smiled then, the expression showing his teeth but not reaching his eyes. ‘I was finishing a matter, you will no doubt, recall the unfortunate incident with the Lovegood girl.’ He raised a brow as he stepped around the pair of them. ‘And now that I have dealt with the precarious position your disciplinary action placed us in, I am free to attend.’

‘You don’t even like the woman. She’s batshit crazy. Everyone knows it.’ Alecto spun on him, her hand shooting out to take hold of his wrist, a grip she maintained for only a moment as his head tilted and his eyes shot daggers towards her. She dragged her hand back as though scalded with boiling water.

‘And every good spy knows the best way to keep track of the comings and goings, of the thoughts and feelings of their adversaries is to be in the midst of them.’ Severus shook his head then at their combined stupidity. ‘So if you’ll excuse me.’ He gestured towards the door, not pausing in his exit as he ushered them through the heavy door and down the curved staircase. He paced the length of the castle floor, fuming in silence as he contemplated just what had possessed the other professors to draw the ire of the dim-witted duo, by gathering together unannounced. He only hoped, as he strode directly towards Flitwick’s Ravenclaw Tower office, that his excuse, his explanation had been plausible enough.

Rounding the corner, by the portrait of Sir Lancelot and his favored horse Beric, Severus darted into the secret passage the portrait concealed, a stroke down Beric’s long muzzle providing him entrance, his disappearance from the corridor serving to confound the Carrow’s yet again. He smirked, listening as they scurried pasts, profanity pouring from their unrefined lips as they hurried in search of where he had availed himself.  Once the coast was clear he ascended the passage, smiling to himself, knowing his sudden appearance in Flitwick’s office would ruffle as many feather as his disappearance had.

Silently, he stepped from the corridor, hidden in the gap between the outer protective stone wall and the inner castle and into Flitwick’s office. ‘You started without me.’ He drawled without ceremony, watching as his colleagues responded to his sudden arrival in their varying ways; Minerva’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lip twitching as she fought to contain her grin, Filius started, his hand flying to his chest as his mouth gaped open most unattractively. Sybill spat her mouthful of tea, couching in surprise before attempting to mop the droplets that still clung to her chin with the corner of her ornate scarf. Pomona let out a little squeak as she stood almost immediately to his left, her hand still wrapped around the glass she had been bringing to her lips.

‘Headmaster?’ Minerva stepped towards him, a hand stretched in front of her. ‘We were…’ her voice trailed off as the door to the office flung open.

‘Celebrating Sybill’s birthday.’ Severus smiled then, a discreet wave of his arm depositing cakes and biscuits onto Filius’ desk just as the Carrows breached the office door. ‘I know. I came for cake.’

‘It’s not my…’ Sybill spoke, her eyes darting between where the Headmaster stood, his back to their other unwanted guests, his body seeming to restrict their further entrance to the room. Her eyes widened as she searched his face, as his words finally registered. ‘Well, not yet anyway. I still have three hours and forty-seven minutes before I was born, if we wish to get technical.’ She let the statement flow, her voice airy and light as she added fuel to the Headmaster’s lie, wondering what had possessed him to deceive his lieutenants.

‘I have no wish to get technical Sybill.’ His voice was like ice, his position precarious as the Carrows jostled to get by him. He spun then, facing the duo, a look of contempt on his features. ‘I believe I was promised cake, was I not Filius? If I deemed it not below my status to attend this little gathering.’ He twirled a hand dismissively by his head as his eyes drifted to lock his gaze on the half-goblin, daring him to deny the request, to not play along.

‘Of course. Headmaster.’ Filius stood taller, snapping to attention as he stepped towards the desk, his wand raised ready to levitate a large piece of cake the Headmaster had transfigured from his fifth year essays. ‘Do Professors Carrow and Carrow wish to partake as well?’

‘That would be…’ Amycus began.

‘Inadvisable.’ Severus finished for him, speaking over anything the man had wished to say.

‘But?’ Alecto shook her head, her displeasure obvious.

‘With all the other professors sequestered here for a celebration, do you not think it advisable for someone to still remain monitoring the students in our care?’ Severus locked his gaze on the simpering woman. He saw her nod once as his suggestion registered.

‘Of course Severus.’ She smiled then, stressing her use of his first name. ‘I am humbled by your trust.’

‘There is no one else I wish to see not in these rooms.’ Severus countered, a tight smile gracing his lips as he offered false flattery, knowing she would unable to see his true meaning.

‘We shall ensure the students respect the boundaries and rules of the school in your absence.’

‘I will expect a report first thing after dinner.’ He bit out the command, his insides screaming not to let himself be maneuvered into a position to have to be in his office alone with the woman, but unable to avoid it, knowing if she felt there was a reward she would go without question.

‘With pleasure Headmaster.’ She nodded once, grabbing hold of her brother and angling him out the door determined to demonstrate just how good a job she could do…for the right incentive, of course.

Severus watched them go before he turned back to face his wayward staff. He flicked his wrist, his non-verbal soundproofing spell, one of his own devising fell into place. ‘I understand you are all resistant to this new regime, but meeting here, together…’ he paused, shaking his head as he looked between each and everyone one of his colleagues, his staff. ‘I do not know what to do with you.’

‘Yet you covered for us.’ Septima spoke up, shifting from where she had been sequestered in the back corner with Hagrid, remaining inconspicuous with the arrival of the Carrows. ‘You didn’t feel the need to punish us?’

‘Inflicting you with my presence is punishment enough.’ He waved his hand, returning the cakes and party food to their original pre-transfigured state. ‘Don’t you think?’

‘How did you even know we were here?’ Poloma spoke quietly from where she stood to his left, near the hearth to the fireplace.

‘There isn’t one thing that happens in this school that I do not know about.’ He raised a brow as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘Each rebellion. Each act of sabotage. Each meeting to plan your latest escapade.’

‘Everything.’ Hagrid whispered.

‘The DA?’ Filius gasped, his hand flying to cover his mouth, to stifle the words.

 ‘That ragtag bunch of miscreants?’ Severus smiled then. ‘Headed by Miss Weasley and Mr Longbottom? The juvenile delinquents hiding out in the Room of Requirement? The room I can call a link to from my very office. Are they whom you speak of?’

‘And they call me the seer.’ Sybill muttered before taking another long sip of her tea.

 ‘You know?’ Filius pressed a fist to his lips, his eyes wide. ‘And yet you’ve done…’ his voice trailed off as his mind processed exactly what had now been confirmed. ‘Nothing to them.’

Severus’ head tilted as he let his eyes drift from person to person, watching as their looks morphed from horror to understanding, as the penny finally dropped. ‘I have…’

‘Run interference and offered yourself as the distraction.’ Minerva spoke quietly, her face solemn. ‘What did I tell you.’

‘How did we not see it?’ Septima stepped forward. ‘All this time. You’ve been helping us?’

‘You saw what I wanted, what I needed you to see.’ Severus shook his head.

‘You killed Albus.’ Rolonda folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, wanting a thorough explanation before she truly commit to his newly revealed side of Severus Snape.

‘I did.’ Severus closed his eyes ‘Because he asked me to. It was what he wanted.’ He spoke softly, his voice full of hurt and regret.

‘I have seen the memories.’ Minerva stepped up beside him in a show of solidarity. ‘It’s true, Albus was dying. Severus ended his suffering. On Albus’ request.’

‘And what of Hermione? What did you need us to see there? That you will continue to kill if required?’ Poloma bristled beside him, still remembering the day she heard the terrible news and unable to reconcile the image of him standing before the Great Hall, the entire student population and acknowledging the act.

‘Miss Granger is alive and well. A secret that was until today my responsibility to keep.’ He bowed his head as murmurs of disbelief, of relief passed through the gathered professors.

‘I can vouch for that too. Hermione is safe and well.’ Minerva smirked. ‘Happy even.’

‘So, what happens now? Now that we all know the details, your true loyalty?’ Septima questioned, her brow furrowing as the ramifications of his actions, the gravity of the situation settled on her.

‘Well thanks to you,’ he turned to face Minerva, ‘I am going to have to cast Obliviate after Obliviate.’

‘You can’t.’ Rolonda Hooch was on her feet then, her arms crossed over her chest, her spiked hair sparking in displeasure.

‘What if you’re caught? Interrogated?’ Severus stood taller, dwarfing the flying instructor.

‘We’ll just have to be careful to ensure we don’t get caught.’ Minerva held his gaze, her lips pulling into a gentle smile as the others echoed her sentiments.

‘I can’t…’ He began, hoping he was going to be able to reign this in before they truly endangered themselves.

‘You shouldn’t have to do this alone.’ Poppy stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘It is how Albus wanted it.’ He stated, his voice even.

‘Albus was wrong.’ Minerva growled her displeasure at the previous Headmaster.

‘I cannot risk everything, everyone’s safety over the slip of tongue, an open mind.’ He shook his head again, his eyes falling to the floor. ‘Not now that there could be an end in sight.’

‘What do you know?’ Filius quizzed, is voice raising slightly.

‘So much more than I will ever tell you.’ He kept his eyes on the stone floor, avoiding their questioning gazes. ‘It’s for your protection. It always has been.’

‘Yet you suffer.’ Septima shook her head, her voice sad. ‘You let us isolate you and treat you terribly. You let us hate you.’

‘I am meant to be hated.’ Severus signed, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

‘I can pretend to keep hating you.’ Hagrid spoke softly, stepping forward to give Severus a slight nudge, his large hand pushing gently on his shoulder, his action shifting Severus back a step or two.

Severus rolled his eyes. ‘You can’t pretend to hate me if you keep grinning at me like that.’ He watched Hagrid school his features, furrow his brow and attempt to direct a menacing glare in his direction. ‘Oh much better.’ He chuckled then, shaking his head. He saw the second the half-giant’s lips twitched before he broke into a full-blown smile.

‘I guess I’m going to have to work on that.’ Hagrid blushed as others in the room joined Severus’ quiet laughter.

‘Indeed.’ Severus raised a brow at him before clasping a hand down on his large shoulder.

‘Were you really going to obliviate us?’ Pomona lifted her gaze to his and held it. ‘All of us?’

He smiled before shaking his head. ‘I do have an image to maintain.’ He took a few steps towards the office door, ‘So on that.’ He opened the door, cancelling the soundproofing spell and eyed the few students in the Ravenclaw corridor before he turned back to face the room. ‘I expect more from you. Get back to work.’ He snapped, his face a mask of displeasure, his bark only softened by the discreet wink he sent the room before he slammed the door and stalked off down the corridor.

 

 

 

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Severus strode through the door leading into his private garden in search of his illusive roommate. He had done a quick reconnaissance of his chambers, starting at the lounge room, and after working his way through the kitchen, the bedroom and knocking on the bathroom door, he had determined that Hermione was nowhere inside. The absence of Lyublyu bounding unabashedly about his feet only confirmed his suspicions; they had escaped the mundanity of his quarters to enjoy the rarely seen sun the Scottish Highlands had gifted them with today. He blinked as he crossed the threshold, stepping from inside the castle and out into the magical gardens he had created. He breathed in deeply, standing subconsciously taller as the sunlight hit his face, warming him as he delved deeper into the open space, his sanctuary from the harsh reality the world presented to him every day. It was a space he had previously indulged in, enjoyed in solitude, knowing he was beyond approach, beyond reach while he basked in the gloriousness of the all-year flowering shrubbery and blooms. It had been his secret garden, known only to him, hidden in the folds of the wards guarding the castle, visible from not one of the hundreds of windows in the walls that towered above, truly an escape from the bonds that held him; his guilt, his regrets, his promises, his devotion. But now, while still hidden, it was something he was pleased to share.

He strolled casually through the expansive space, listening for any sound that would give an indication to where his roommate was. He felt the smile tug at his lips as he heard her voice, drifting through the space, melding into the ambience, blending with the chirp of birds, the fall of the waterfall into the pool. He watched as his dog bounced past, tail wagging as it chased a small globe of light. He felt his smile widen as Lyublyu paused in her pursuit to glance his way, her tail wagging even more at the sight of him, if that were indeed possible. He pat his leg, encouraging the dog to abandon the magic ball and come to him. He saw her hesitate before her tongue lolled, her decision made as she ran over to him, jumping to tap her forefeet on his thigh as she reached her wayward tongue for the hand that pat her head.

‘Where is she Lyublyu?’ he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace and tranquility of the afternoon, knowing his dog would lead him to whom he sought. He watched as the animal tilted her head for a moment as though considering his question, and then with one final lick bounced off back in the direction of the waterfall and surrounding pool. He followed along, slightly behind, rounding the shrubbery that opened to give him an unrestricted view of the space. What caught his eye caused him to falter in his step, to freeze then, unsure of how to approach, of what to do.

Hermione floated to the edge of the water, her eyes scanning the open space for a sign of where Lyublyu had ran off to. The dog had been gone longer on this retrieval attempt than anytime previous. She felt her brow furrow as she stood upright from the warmed water to allow her to see a little further into the bush surrounding the area. She whistled softly, listening for moment in the shrubbery, watching as the small unicorn glanced her way before returning to its feed, its mother standing by the edge of the pool totally content now to be sharing the garden space with yet another human creature. ‘Lyublyu?’ she called, waiting a moment, her eyes scanning the undergrowth. Her smile lit up as the dog bounded into view. ‘What kept you puppy?’ She took a few more steps towards the edge of the pool, towards the excited dog. ‘Where’s the ball?’  
He watched, from his position in the shrubbery, feeling every bit the lecherous man prying on the very picture of innocence and temptation she presented; her barely covered body glistening from the water, rivulets running tracks down her chest, across her limbs, the sun shining from her hair, the flecks of gold highlighted. He followed her movement from the water to the grass, her eyes scanning the space in search of the ball. He grinned, listening as she continued to question his dog on its whereabouts before almost pleading with the canine to spare her the journey of locating it herself. He held back the chuckle as he considered for a moment that she seemed to have forgotten that she was a witch and had the ability to summon what she required, no energy expenditure required. A quick silent Accio had the glowing ball captured in his palm. He stepped forward, revealing himself through his action and his words. ‘I believe I have something of yours.’ He flinched then, the smile slipping from his lips as she started, her eyes widening in fright as they found his, her hands moving aimlessly in the futile attempt to cover herself.

‘Severus?’ She breathed his name on the quick inhalation his surprise arrival had caused.

‘I’m sorry Little One, I did not mean to startle you.’ He froze where he stood, the ball still held in his outstretched palm, his expression, his voice loaded with his regret and apology. He dropped his eyes, attempting to ease her apparent discomfort, lowing his gaze away from her form and to the green grass at her feet.

She watched his deference to her dignity, her modesty noticing the slight flush now coloring his cheeks. She took a step forwards, her hand reaching to cup his gently, her touch causing his eyes to fly up to meet her waiting gaze. ‘I was just surprised Severus. I didn’t mean to make you feel it was unwanted.’ She smiled, her eyes sparkling as she held his questioning gaze, as she assured him the only way she could that she indeed spoke the truth.

‘But you…’ His voice trailed off as she shook her head, a slight blush to match his now covering her cheeks.

‘For a moment I remembered I didn’t have swim wear and that while alone my underwear is sufficient, you know…’ she twirled her free hand in nonchalance as her voice too trailed off.

‘You think I am uncomfortable?’ He quirked an eyebrow as he let his gaze run over her.

‘I did not wish to offend you.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes darted to the side, avoiding his gaze now.

‘Do I look offended Hermione?’ He spoke softly, reaching a hand to place under her chin and gently direct her eyes back to his.

‘I have scars.’ She whispered.

‘Everyone has scars.’ He smiled gently, his eyes creasing as he looked down on her, his expression caring and kind.

‘I didn’t wish to…’ she paused for a second, think of what she wanted to say. ‘Iwantedyoutolikeseeingme.’ She blurted out, her words all crushed together. ‘And I’m not sure you seeing me in my wet, boring old plain black underwear was what I had in mind.’ She finished, finally composing herself and articulating exactly what she meant.

‘I very much like what I see Hermione.’ He took a step closer to her, closing the distance between them, holding her against his chest. ‘In fact,’ he bent his head forward to brush his lips against the shell of her ear as he spoke, ‘I think your attire is perfect for flouncing about in my lagoon.’ He grinned then as he felt her stiffen for a second before relaxing back in his arms.

‘I rarely flounce.’ She reprimanded, the smile lighting her features telling him her lack of offence despite her spoken words. ‘But on that, Mister,’ she smacked a rounded fist onto his shoulder before stepping backwards. ‘I think you need to show me the correct lagoon etiquette.’ She watched his eyes widen for a second, his face filling with an expression oddly resembling fear. She placed a hand on his bicep. ‘Severus?’ her question, his name spoken so very quietly once more.

He blinked. ‘Hermione, I don’t…’ his throat closed, restricting his words, silencing his explanation as he tried to make it.

‘Are you trying to tell me that you’re not wearing underpants under all those buttons Sir?’ She teased trying to remove the tension that now surrounded him.

He frowned for a moment as her words penetrated the memory that threatened to surface. His lips spread into a smile of their own accord as he shook his head slightly. ‘Oh yes Miss Granger, I make it a habit to go commando to all of my classes.’ He drawled, his tone clearly dismissing his words as sarcasm rather than truth.

She let her expression turn serious. ‘I won’t mind.’ She shrugged. ‘Whatever you’re wearing. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.’ She took another step backwards, towards the water. ‘Swimming.’

He watched her back towards the water, separating them further, giving him no choice but to follow or risk causing her disappointment. He took a step before balking, his hands frozen to the buttons at his chest, the memory resurfacing and refusing to back down this time. ‘The last time I followed a girl into a pool it ended very badly.’ He whispered, his eyes glazing over as one of the worst moments of his teenaged life flashed through the forefront of his mind.

Hermione’s brow furrowed, her teasing smile abandoned as she slowly made her way to the distressed man before her. She approached slowly knowing from his expression that his mind was no longer with her in the garden. She placed her hands on his cheeks, angling his eyes back to her, her touch reanimating him, bringing his focus to the here and now and away from whatever had tortured him. ‘Tell me.’ She spoke very quietly as she coaxed him to open up to her.

‘Its…’ he squeezed his eyes closed. ‘Embarrassing.’ His forced out.

‘The best stories always are.’ She traced her thumb across his cheek, her action causing him to open his eyes once more. She watched the emotions battle for dominance in his dark gaze.

‘This isn’t…’ his voice trailed off once more.

‘I won’t judge you Severus. You have seen me. Scars and all. Isn’t it only fair that I do the same?’ She let her honesty, her conviction sound in her words, her expression.

‘I wasn’t a wealthy child.’ He spoke softly, his voice filled with shame. ‘I was awkward too. Which made it worse. I had one friend and I would do anything, anything just to please her.’ He let his eyes drift to focus on the unicorns wander peacefully beside the pool, letting the serenity of the scene calm him as his story unfolded. ‘She wanted to go swimming. In the Black Lake. One Summer afternoon.’ He closed his eyes once more. ‘I didn’t own any swim wear. But she wouldn’t be deterred. We left our clothes by a tree, near the edge and entered the water, her in a new floral one piece, me in the worst pair of grey briefs I owned, stretched elastic, stained and filled with holes.’ His voice shook with emotion. ‘It had been a trick. I should have seen it. She had barely spoken to me in months. She left once they had my clothes.’ He opened his eyes and locked them on Hermione’s waiting gaze. He heard her gasp at the raw pain she saw in his expression. ‘I had to walk back to the common room, through the castle and the grounds in just my underpants. They had taken everything. And they had told the student population to expect a show that afternoon.’ His face fell forwards, his hair flopping to shield his eyes from view. ‘There was not one person in that castle who did not witness my walk of shame.’

She ran a hand over his head, tucking his hair behind his ear as she went before she tightened her grip on his cheeks, settling her palms flush against his skin. She re-angled her body under his, steeping closer, and tilting her head to catch and hold his gaze. ‘I am sorry that happened to you.’ She ran a thumb over his lips. ‘But you are not that boy any more Severus.’ She saw him bring his raging emotions, his shame back under control at her words. ‘I would not steal your clothes from you to hurt you, to embarrass you.’ She grinned then watching his eyes widen as her tone shifted. ‘But I can’t say I wouldn’t steal them for MY pleasure.’ She ran her teeth over her bottom lip as she looked up at him through her lashes.

‘I believe I may even consent to that.’ He whispered, the blush covering his cheek again.

‘One day Severus.’ She took a step backwards. ‘Not today. But one day. Today we are just going to get you out of those clothes and swim.’ Her hands fell to the buttons on his shirt, her eyes never leaving his as she began the long descent from where he had abandoned the task at his chest, to his waistline.

He grinned devilishly then. ‘It never fails to amuse me how many times you forget you are a witch.’ With a silent Divesto his clothes folded themselves neatly on the bank, leaving him standing before her in nothing but his black boxer brief. He took a few steps towards the water before turning back to face her, noticing the way she watched him, her eyes wide, taking him all in, the way he could see the pulse erratically at the base of her throat, matching her escalated breathing. ‘You’re staring Miss Granger.’

You’re almost naked Professor.’ She grinned, her expression wicked as she made to close the distance between them.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

'My Lord?' Alecto stood, her eyes cast down, the very picture of demure as she awaited acknowledgement from her Lord and commander.

'Speak.' The Dark Lord smiled indulgently as he watched her jump to attention, enjoying the way she shifted uncomfortably under his red-eyed gaze before she squared her shoulders and lifted her eyes to his. Almost.

She brought her gaze to rest on the tip of his deformed, flat nose hoping that from where he sat at the head of the large banquet table on his throne he would be unable to tell she was avoiding his eyes. 'My Lord, I wish to bring to you a proposal. One of great importance to your cause.'

He tilted his head, watching as she shuffled from foot to foot under his attention for a moment before lifting a hand and gesturing for her to continue. 'Speak my child.'

'I have been thinking about your message My Lord.' Alecto let her voice take on the simpering flattery she knew appeased the Dark Lord. 'You stand to see our old-world traditions and customs upheld. The unity and sanctity of family recognized.' She swallowed then watching as the Dark Lord seemed to carefully consider her words, his interest piqued. Now, it was to be her moment, her chance to get everything she had ever dreamed of; power, esteem, a well-respected, high ranking member of the Inner Circle as her husband.

'Is there a point?' the Dark Lord frowned then, his hairless brow-ridge creasing as he glared down at the Carrow sister.

'My point, My Lord, is how do we model and instill this moral if the very person in the most position of influence is in fact defying it as we speak.' As she concluded her opening statement, she let her eyes turn to lock onto where Severus sat, face devoid of emotion, even after her brave attack on his position, his private life, his social standing. 'How are we expected to teach our children the values of family, of matrimony and of fidelity if Headmaster Snape remains the very unattached beacon of professional singledom? How are we to teach these children that they can have it all, a career, a loving spouse and children, when he in fact does not…' She paused before stressing her point. 'Have. It. All.'

'And how do you propose we rectify this situation?' The Dark Lord steepled his fingers together in front of his face as he leant forward, resting his elbows onto the table in front of him as he glared down at her. 'How do we in fact rectify this folly in my Inner Circle, my graciously and deliberately bestowed positions of power? He watched Alecto swallow slowly under his displeasure at her unintended, implied accusation. 'I suppose you have thought of situation, have you not Alecto?' His voice casual now as he watched her eyes dart towards where Severus sat, blank-faced in the very center of the Carrow storm brewing. He let his eyes drift between Alecto and Severus then, waiting for a reaction, an indication of what either were thinking.

'I have. My Lord.' She bowed her head then, the moment having played exactly where she had wanted it. 'If it pleases you My Lord, I wish to ask Severus Snape to marry me.'

Voldemort clapped his hands together in glee. 'Is that so Alecto?' He turned his serpentine gaze to Severus then. 'And what say you Severus?'

Severus felt his heart stop in his chest, a stabbing pain erupt in his temple. He schooled his features, refusing to let the mad woman's words, her suggestion visibly rattle him in front of the Dark Lord and his demon followers. He swallowed slowly as he turned his gaze away from the woman seeking to entrap him and towards the half-human despot at the end of the table. 'I would have to consult the school rules for regulations on fraternizing between staff, My Lord.'

'There are none preventing the marriage between two consenting teaching adults, My Lord. I checked.' Alecto spoke up, concealing the smile that threatened as she attempted to out manoeuver the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Dark Lord at once.

'If I do this,' the Dark Lord nodded as he looked back at Alecto, carefully pondering his question, the possible answers she would provide, 'what benefits do you foresee?'

'Complete devotion to your cause and to my husband, My Lord.' Alecto stood taller, pushing her chest forward as she sucked her stomach in as tight as possible. 'I will be everything the Headmaster could be wanting in a wife, loyal, serving and above all else forever willing. I will bear the most glorious of children for you both.'

Severus kept his face frozen in its lankness as the Dark Lord paused for a moment as though actually considering the mad woman's proposal, as though he would give Severus himself a choice in the matter. He saw the creature's lips pull tight before they morphed into what could only be described as a nightmarish parody of a smile of pure unadulterated joy.

'It shall be done.' The Dark Lord stood then, his hands raised and spread wide. 'Within the fortnight.' He turned his gaze to meet Severus'. 'Are you not pleased Severus? Your loyalty and your devotion has been paid in full. A wife of your own. To use as you see fit.'

'Indeed my Lord.' He forced the words to sound normal, smooth as he fought the bile rising in his throat, the desire to clench his teeth together in frustration, in horror. 'I look forward to it.'

'Let it be said that the Dark Lord is indeed benevolent.' He sat with a flourish, his serpentine grin still affixed to his face. 'Lucius, come, we have a wedding to prepare.' He flicked his hand then. 'Away with the rest of you. Until Saturday, after next. When we shall feast to the fortunes of our comrades in arms as they bind themselves to the service of each other and to me.'

Severus stood then, nodding his acceptance of his fate as he also gave his silent farewell. Turning on his heel he strode from the room, determined to exit the manor, the nightmare as fast as his feet would take him to the point of apparition. He had made it to the edge of the drive, the huge iron gate the only thing between him and his refuge when his retreat was brought to a premature stop by a hand coming to rest on his forearm, the fingers tightening as they stopped his steps, as they spun him to face them. He felt his eyes narrow before he managed to school his features, his head tilted to the side as he regarded the woman who now had him his grasp, figuratively and literally. 'And how exactly may I be of service now?' He spoke with such disdain, his voice dripping ice as he stared down at her, willing her to let go of his arm, to leave him in peace.

Alecto stepped closer, her grip tightening on his forearm as she brought her other hand up to stroke down his chest before cupping him through his trousers. 'Trust me Severus when I tell you this.' She gave him a squeeze to punctuate her point. 'You will service me when I want, where I want and how I want.'

'Or?' He held her gaze, his eyes hard.

'Or, let's just say I can make your life a living hell.'

He smiled then, stepping back, freeing himself from her grip. 'You know nothing of hell Alecto. If tats the best you can do, then it is you who needs to be afraid.'

She fluttered her eyelashes as she looked him up and down rakishly. 'I am not afraid of you Headmaster.' She simpered, stepping forward once more.

'Then you are even more stupid than I thought.' Another step backwards set him outside the manor wards. 'You underestimate my capabilities.' He could feel the elements shifting with his mood, the wind rising, beginning to whip about them, pulling at their robes, his long hair. 'You think we are equal. You dare think you can control me?' He lifted a hand, watching as she recoiled slightly from him as the wind increased, the howl now audible. 'I am evil incarnate.'

'But the Dark Lord…' she began.

'Is nothing compared to what I can unleash on someone not in my favor, but in my control.' He cut her off, standing taller before letting his body fold on its self, shifting to smoke before swirling about her in the tornado he had created. After a moment he directed his energies, focusing on his chambers and the safety there.

Hermione started at the sound of breaking glass coming from the other room, from the lounge room just outside where she was sequestered. She jumped up from the bed, her book forgotten as she grabbed her wand and crept slowly towards the open door. Rounding the frame, she froze at the sight before her; Severus Snape in full Death Eater regalia destroying his living room, hurtling bottles, glasses, the lounge itself against the stone wall. He mumbled under his breath, his expression one of pure unadulterated fury, his eyes wide and bloodshot, his teeth bared in a snarl. Unconsciously she took a step backwards before straightening, shaking her head and shifting from the bedroom into the lounge, her wand raised, ready to deflect anything that may come her way. 'Severus?'

'I will not. She will not force me to do anything.' He growled, his face towards where she stood now, his eyes glazed and unseeing. 'She will not have me.'

'I don't…' she whispered, her free hand coming to her chest.

'She cannot make me.' He took a step towards where the voice was coming from. His wand hand raised. 'I will NOT marry her.' His voice increased with each word, his hand handing as he directed his anger towards her. Winds whipped about the chambers picking up debris, whirling them to directly in front of him before they hurtled towards her.

Hermione ducked, gasping as the entire shattered contents of Severus' quarters came flying at her. She closed her eyes, knowing she was no match for the fury behind the missiles, hoping his aim was either off or his intent so precise that the impact would end her before she could register the pain. She flinched hearing the sound of impact, either side of her. Slowly she opened her eyes to find Sage standing between her and the onslaught of furniture fragments, books and glass., the pieces bouncing harmlessly off the conjured shield and slamming into the walls either side of where she stood.

'You saved me. Sage.' Hermione spoke over the sound of breaking debris, over the force of the hurricane confined to Severus' chamber.

'I is not be making the shield.' Sage whispered shaking her head.

'Then who?' Hermione's eyes widened as realization dawned. 'He is. I heard him. I thought he meant this for me.'

'He is in there.' Sage spoke earnestly. 'This is not for Little Miss.' She turned to face where Severus stood, still seemingly unseeing, his eyes glazed, his body rigid, his expression once of immense pain and suffering infused with anger. 'Something terrible happened. My Severus torn. Fighting himself, For himself.'

'What can I do?' Hermione's voice caught.

'Nothing.' Sage turned to face her once more. 'But WE can do everything.' With that the small elf disappeared with pop, returning a spilt second later with Minerva and Poppy in tow.

'What in heaven's name is going on here?' Minerva asked, her face pinched before she spun to face where the onslaught was coming from, her wand lifted and ready. 'Fuck.' She took a step backwards as a small table, relatively unharmed til now shattered mere inches from her face, the wood splintering before slamming into the walls, some fragments under such velocity they lodged themselves into the stone façade.

'Well that was unexpected and uncalled for.' Poppy chastised the Scotswoman, a hand landing on her arm, steadying her.

'So was the table.' Minerva shook her head, stealing herself to deal with the fallout from Severus' latest summoning. 'Severus Snape you will stop this right now.' Minerva held her head high, her voice hard as she stepped forwards, extending the shield as she crossed the room towards the distraught figure in the center. The wind dropped slightly, the gale-force howling dropping to barely audible. 'Severus? Please?' She spoke quietly now, as the debris settled about them. She reached a hand out to touch him as he collapsed to his knees, his arms winding about her thighs his face coming to rest against her stomach. She could feel his shouldered shaking under the force of his now silent sobbing. 'It's going to be ok. Severus.' She ran a hand over his head as Poppy and Hermione approached slowly, so as not to startle him back into demolition mode.

'Nothing is ok.' He whispered, his face still pressed against her, his arms tightening.

'It will be. Trust me.' Minerva matched his volume as she continued to stroke his head. 'Tell me what has happened?'

He shook his head against her. 'Please. Don't make me do it. It's too much.' He begged.

'I can't help if you don't tell me Severus. I'm asking you to let me help.' She kept her voice steady.

He straightened then, leaning back to look at the three women and the small elf staring helplessly at him, their concern marring their features. 'Don't make me marry her.' his voice choked, his volume barely audible.

'I never…' Hermione instantly panicked, her mind flitting through their interactions, their flirting, their swimming, their incredible kiss wondering where exactly he had gotten the idea, the feeling she was making demands he couldn't keep.

'Not you.'' His eyes found hers. 'I am so sorry Hermione. I never wanted it like this.' His eyes dropped to the floor. 'I never wanted to hurt you.'

'You didn't.' She saw his face lift slightly, his eyes narrowed as though to argue. 'Ok,' she held her hands up to placate. 'The flying furniture frightened me, but you didn't let it hurt me.'

'I am going to hurt you.' He closed his eyes, turning his face back to Minerva, Poppy and Sage. 'You have to help me. You have to stop this. Or I'll stop myself.' He stood then, gaining some of his usual composure. 'I swear to you. If you make me do this. I will end it all.'

'You can't be serious.' Poppy took a step forward towards him, her eyes assessing him for damage as she steppe closer.

'I'm deadly serious.' Severus turned to face the hearth, his back rigid, his tight muscles visible under his torn and bloodied shirt, his uncontrolled fury conjured tornado having caused himself harm. 'I have a done a great many things for the greater good. I have followed every last order. I have done everything required of me. I have sacrificed so much.' He spun back to face them, his expression distraught, desolate as he implored them to understand. 'But I won't may her. I would rather die.'

'Severus I still don't…' Hermione shook her head. 'You're not making any sense. Please.'

He let his eyes drift to hers. He opened his mouth to speak, his words, his explanation cut off as the floo roared to life. He spun, his body blocking the view into his chambers, the occupants within as Filius' head appeared in the green flames.

'There you are Headmaster. I've been searching. There's been an emergency staff meeting called. Now.' His head disappeared then, as abruptly as it appeared his message delivered.

'It appears there is no rest for the wicked.' Severus let his composure settle over himself. With a flick of a wrist he was buttoned once more into his immaculate pressed frock coat, his shirt repaired to pristine. 'I believe we have a meeting to attend ladies.' He turned to Hermione then. 'I will explain it all. I promise you that.' He stepped through the still green-glowing flames, knowing the two women would follow, if not only to feed their curiosity.

Alecto smiled widely as her betrothed stepped through the floo, his presence appearing perfectly beside her, where she stood, center of attention in front of the hearth in the staffroom. 'There you are.' She placed a hand on his arm, her smug expression as she surveyed the room, slipping only slightly as Poppy and Minerva followed through the flames, their appearance making it so very obvious that they had been in his chambers, sharing his space, a space that would soon belong to her as well.

'Un hand me.' Severus spoke quietly, his demand cold and calculate and leaving no room for argument. 'You called a staff meeting?' He let his voice return neutral once his command had been followed. He stepped away from the insipid woman that was to be his wife.

'I did.' She smiled again, facing the room, nothing her brother's position leaning against the back wall, silently watching the responses of the other staff members to his sister's news, prepared to protect her with his life. 'I figured everyone might like to hear our joyful news.'

'News?' Rolonda straightened in her chair, her interest piqued now.

'Oh yes.' Alecto clapped her hands together in front of her in excitement. 'The Headmaster and I art to be married. Within the fortnight. Isn't wonderful.'

Gasps of disbelief, of horror echoed the looks of bewilderment and disgust gracing the faces of the Hogwart's staff assembled.

'It's not true?' Filius turned to face where Severus stood.

'By order of the Dark…' Alecto's words were cut off as an ungodly pop sounded in the room. An elf appeared.

'You is her. You is destroying my Severus.' Sage took a step towards where Alecto stood glaring at her. 'He is My Severus.' She pointed a bony finger at the woman threatening the life, the wellbeing of her elfling. 'I WILL NOT be letting you.'

'Severus. Control this beast.' Alecto glared at her husband to be.

'I is stopping you. Old Magics is stopping you.' Sage screamed then, running full force towards the woman standing before her, the woman threating her Severus. She closed the distance quickly, her pace never slowing until she drew level. With a quick leap Sage forced her body into Alecto's, her smaller elf body disappearing complete as she was absorbed into the Death Eater.

'I…' Alecto's eyes bulged at the addition of another body within the confines of her skin. She screamed, clawing at her abdomen trying to find the entry way to grab hold of the elf and forcibly extract it if necessary. After a brief struggle Alecto's body exploded in a spray of blood and smoke.

As the smoke dissipated Sage's bloodied body came into focus, her victorious grin lighting the room. 'My Severus.'

Amycus straightened, his wand appearing in his hand as he attempted to push himself away from the wall. 'What the hell did you do to my sis…' His words disappeared as he did, the stone castle wall pushing out to envelope the offensive man, before dragging him inside its foundation, setting back as solid as it ever had been.

'Old magics.' Sage grinned wider, if possible, her words sent towards where the Carrow brother would rest for eternity, unseen and unremembered.

'Well now that business is concluded.' Minerva turned to face Severus. 'Tea?' She spoke as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AN// I know it's been a VERY long time since the last update... I have been on an excursion in Italy and have only just returned.. I'd say that I'm sorry... but its Italy!!!!!

I'm hoping this feeds your soul for the new year, and that you'll forgive the absence and the errors that will undoubtedly be in this chapter as I was hurrying to publish...

As always, I look forward to hearing your thoughts!


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing Severus.’ Minerva levelled her eyes on his once he had directed his attention from the blank wall holding Amycus prisoner towards her. She had been watching him for some time now, sitting, staring, his face drawn and tired, resigned almost. They had been seated, on opposite chairs, in the staffroom ever since the staff meeting had been called to a close. She had watched him collapse into the chair shortly after they had been left alone. His eyes had darted from the wall, to the place Alecto had stood, to the window and the peaceful, snow-covered grounds below. The speed his gaze had shifted between the spots, forever etched into her memory, had slowed over the last few hours, his mood however, remained unchanged; his brow furrowed, his lips pressed tight, his jaw clenched, he remained the epitome of tense. ‘You can’t hide in here forever you know.’

‘What am I supposed to say to her Minerva?’ He shook his head, his eyes dropping back to the floor and away from her compassionate gaze. ‘Sorry I almost brought the entire castle down on your head during a tantrum? I didn’t get the reputation of unjustified, uncontrolled fury from smiling calmly at everyone.’ He spoke the last sentence mockingly, his frustration towards his reputation being taken out on himself once more.

‘You were not having a tantrum.’ She leant forwards, reaching across the distance that separated them and placed her hand on his knee. ‘And nothing that happened in there was unjustified Severus.’ She gave his knee a squeeze, hoping her words were sinking in, waiting for him to acknowledge them and turn back to face her. Slowly Severus sat a little straighter in his chair, re-angling his body to sit forwards, her hand never shifting from his knee. She watched then as he lifted sheepish eyes towards hers. She spoke softly, her tone kind but matter=of-fact. ‘You have never been unjustified. You’re calculated, controlled,’ she watched his eyebrow raise as though he meant to interrupt and question her character statement of him. She shook her head, silencing the protest before he could voice it. ‘Maybe not right in that moment, control isn’t exactly the word I would choose to use Severus, but when people think of you, they don’t think uncontrolled or furious. And if they ever doubted they certainly do not now. Now that the truth is out.’ She nodded. ‘Even before, there was callousness, feigned as we now know, but it was controlled, directed, subtle.’ She smiled then, relaxing slighting in her chair as she attempted to ease the tension from his body. ‘Nothing about earlier was even remotely subtle, young man.’

‘That’s my point entirely.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I frightened her. I almost killed her.’

‘You damn near killed me too. I don’t hear you regretting that course of action.’ Minerva grinned wider, her voice teasing as she tried to break him out of his gloom, coax him back to his usual stoic self. ‘I’m far too old to have a table thrown at me.’

‘I missed.’ He shrugged then, a small smile beginning to tug at his lips as he sparred with his friend, his true mentor, the woman he wished was is real mother.

‘Well then I guess you are too old to be hurling tables about too.’ She matched his shrug, dismissing the taunt as the apology she knew he was trying to make.

‘Some days I think I’m too old for all of it.’ His voice dropped to just above a whisper, his eyes losing the joviality she had managed to provoke him to.

‘I know.’ Minerva grew serious again then too. ‘Me too. Sometimes it is all too much. No one should have to live like this.’ She brought a fisted hand to her mouth in silent contemplation, chewing the pad of her thumb as she closed her eyes for a second. ‘Damn you Albus.’ She opened her eyes and locked them on Severus’ waiting gaze. ‘What?’

‘I don’t think even our illustrious dead leader predicted the Dark Lord would order me to marry that despicable woman.’ Severus smirked.

‘But I can hate him none-the-less.’ Minerva held her ground, her eyes hard. ‘Everything that has happened to you Severus is his fault.’ She nodded once to emphasis her words. ‘Everything.’ She gave his knee another squeeze. ‘And I will spend every damn day making it up to you.’

‘It’s not your burden Minerva.’ Severus spoke softly.

‘Maybe not.’ She matched his tone. ‘But I was unknowingly a part of it. And I’ll be damned sure you know how much I care for you…’ her throat closed, her words choking off as the emotion caught up to her. She watched Severus blink, clearing his eyes, her words and the emotion behind them not lost on him either. ‘I will make it up to you.’ She finished more calmly, ‘just as you will make it up to the young woman in your chambers.’

‘Very well.’ He stood, using his hands on the arm rest to heft his body from the chair. ‘But when this ends badly...’

‘You have spent months together now.’ Minerva interrupting him as she stood too, feeling her bones crack with the movement after sitting for so long. ‘That girl adores you. You need to give yourself more credit.’ She grinned then. ‘You may want clean up a little bit first though.’ She gestured towards his cheek. ‘You’ve got a little something…’

‘Like you can talk, old woman.’ Severus matched her smile. ‘You’re practically covered in Carrow.’ He uncharacteristically flapped his hand about as he waved his hand across her torso and face, indicating the dried blood, the bits of skin that they both were seemingly covered in but until this moment had been too preoccupied to either notice or care.

‘This,’ she cocked her head to the left, her brow raising, ‘is the only way I would ever let a Carrow on me.’

‘That is a very good point Madam.’ Severus nodded his face solemn for a moment as he considered. ‘This, however, is still too close to me than I ever cared to let her get.’ 

Minerva gave a flick of her wrist, vanishing the remains of the Carrow sister from the both of them. ‘A shower will actually make you feel clean, but right now it is imperative that you don’t make that girl wait for you and your explanation any longer.’

‘Indeed.’ Severus gave a brief incline of his head before he stepped towards the floo. ‘I may need luck.’ He muttered as he took hold of a handful of power and threw it into the fire.

‘You will need nothing of the sort.’ Minerva informed him. She watched as he stepped into the green flames and was pulled from view. ‘She loves you. Perhaps even more that I do.’ She told the now empty room.

\----

Severus straightened as he stepped out of the fire and onto the hearth. His eyes darted about his chambers, widening as he took in the lack of debris. He had been expecting to return to a full blown disaster zone, but everything was in order, his furniture righted, his belongings repaired. He crossed the room, his eyes still tracking for remnants of his loss of control earlier, for his use of unrestrained old magic to stir up a tornado of destruction. He stopped dead in his tracks as his reached the archway entering the kitchen, his eyes widening at the sight before him, at the vision she provided; her back to him, her trust in his return and her safety breaching the wall he had tried to bring up to shield himself as he gave his explanation. It all fell. At the sight of her leaning on the counter, a book in one hand, the other idling stroking his cat as it lounged on the marble bench. A bowl sat to her right, a small spoon handle visible as it stirred whatever it was that she was preparing. For them. For him. The action, its significance not lost on him. ‘Hermione.’ He spoke softly, lest her startle her.

She spun quickly at him voice, her hand still wrapped around her book. ‘You’re back.’ She breathed, her eyes roaming over him, taking him in.

His lip twitched as he controlled the urge to smile at her blatant stating of the obvious. ‘I am.’

‘Are you ok? Are you hurt?’ She took a step towards him before she faltered, pausing her approach, her brow furrowing as her eyes dropped from his. ‘I don’t know what to do.’ She whispered, her book falling to the floor as it slipped from her fingers.

‘Oh Little One.’ He took the remaining steps to close the distance between them. He wrapped his arms about her small frame and pulled her into his chest, his lips dropping to brush against her hair. ‘I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You did nothing wrong.’

‘I am not scared of you Severus.’ She encircled his body with her arms, pulling herself closer still. ‘I just don’t want to add to your distress, your feeling of powerlessness, of helplessness.’ She loosened her grip and took a small step back to allow her to look into his eyes, her hand resting loosely on his forearms now. ‘I can even leave. If it gives you space. Choice.’

He swallowed then as his eyes searched hers. ‘I don’t want space Hermione. I just didn’t want her.’ He reached up and smoothed his hand over her head, running his palm gently over her hair, to tuck a few strands behind her ear. ‘I did not want her to destroy what I have with you.’

‘What do you have with me Severus?’ She all but whispered.

‘Everything.’ He matched her volume, his tone worshipping. ‘I have everything.’

She saw his eyes go glassy as the tears welled. She knew hers matched. So, she smiled then, willing the tension to ebb from the room. ‘Well, that’s informative.’ She teased.

‘Do you doubt me?’ His head tilted as he looked down at her smiling, upturned face.

The smile fell from her lips at his words. The teasing left her voice at the seriousness of his question. ‘Never Severus. I have _NEVER_ doubted you. I was terrified when you brought me here.’ She shook her head, her eyes dropping to look directly at his chest in front of her. ‘Terrible things had happened. My emotions were all in turmoil. I was torn between my resolve that you were to be trusted and what had happened to me at the hands of your supposed conspirators.’ She brought her eyes back to lock onto his. ‘But I never doubted you.’ She let her smile return to her lips then. ‘But I doubt that you and I have _everything_.’

He let her words register, her reassurance wash over him. He let the return of her grin, her teasing tone guide him in his next response as he let the fear of her rejection, of her distrust evaporate from his very being. ‘Hmmm?’ He raised a brow in question, his voice deepening even further, growing silkier as he pulled her closer again. ‘And just what am I missing?’

She caught the corner of her lower lip in between her teeth as she stared, wide-eyed up at him for a second, before she smiled once more, her teeth ever so slowly releasing her lip. Her hand sliding up his arms to his chest, her palms now flat against his pectorals, her right hand directly over his heart. ‘I’m missing it too.’ She whispered as she raised herself up on her toes, her hands continuing their journey, after their brief pause, to behind his neck. Her fingers twisted into his hair as she brought his face gently towards hers.

He caught the way she looked at him before her eyes fluttered closed. He felt her lips touch his softly, tentatively. He felt her hands tighten their grip on his hair slightly as he pressed harder, as he let his mouth move against hers. He heard the small intake of breath, the soft little gasp she let out as he deepened the kiss. He fought the urge to grin as she opened her mouth to his probing tongue, as she pulled her body flush, hers wiggling in his grasp as she rubbed against him, as she tried to get even closer still. He lost his internal battel then and let the grin spread across his lips as he lifted his mouth from hers, as he looked down at her slightly flushed cheeks, her bright, wide eyes. ‘Hermione?’ his tone was one of awe, of adoration as his large hand cupped her cheek. ‘I will give you anything, _everything_ you want Little One.’

‘I want more Severus. I want more with you.’ She watched as her words registered. She saw his hesitation flash in his dark eyes. ‘I do.’ She placed a hand over his heart again. She smiled gently as he shifted a hand to cover hers, to hold her in place. ‘It just took an extreme weather event,’ she smirked then, her smile morphing somewhat at his chastised, embarrassed expression at her indirect mention of his minor melt-down. ‘It took your hurricane to make me realize that I could have lost you. I forgot, being secluded in here, for a moment, that a whole other world fraught with danger lurked out there. I forgot that I could lose you.’

‘You will never lose me. I am yours. Whilst ever you want me.’ He spoke softly, his expression open and sincere, his embarrassment replaced. ‘I am yours to command and control.’

She shook her head then. ‘I don’t want control Severus.’ She saw him nod accepting the truth behind her statement, her implied sentiment of equality, of freedom, his freedom of choice remaining unspoken but fully understood. ‘But I do want to be closer.’ She dropped her chin and glanced at up at him through her lashes as she spoke her desire.

‘I’m not sure you can be any closer if you tried.’ Severus smirked then, relishing the feel of her pressed so tightly against him, only their thin layer of clothing separating him from her warm skin.

She slapped her hand gently on his chest in admonishment of his teasing. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’

He let the smile leave his lips, its hint still lying deep in his eyes. ‘Do you, Little One, know what you meant?’ He kept his voice low as his hands splayed across her back.

‘Yes.’ She answered her expression defiant, before she shook her head, her confidence slipping slightly. ‘No.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes dropped to his chest once more. ‘Not really. I haven’t had the best introduction…’ her voice faltered then as she closed her eyes, remembering.

‘Hey.’ He placed a hand gently under her chin and directed her eyes back to his. ‘It’s ok if you don’t…’

‘Stop. Severus.’ She interrupted, her fire returning. ‘What happened was _not_ your fault. And it doesn’t change how I feel about you. What I want. _From you._ ’ She lowered her voice again as she glanced away. ‘But I am going to need to you to help me get past it.’ She brought her eyes back to his, her expression determined once more. ‘Will you teach me?’ Her hand found his chest, his heart once more. ‘I want this, _you_ , more than you can possibly imagine.’

‘I can imagine. The feeling is more than mutual Hermione.’ He cupped her face in his palms. I will help you.’ He smiled gently as he looked down into her upturned gaze before dropping a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. ‘Because I love you.’ He spoke the words quietly as he lifted his head to watch her.

She grinned widely, her eyebrow raising in insinuation. ‘Now?’ She practically bounced in his grip.

He rolled his eyes, his expression now one of feigned boredom. He sighed dramatically before he broke into a huge grin, as he swung her into his arms, pulling her tight against him as he cradled her against his chest. ‘Oh if I must.’

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

‘You will never lose me. I am yours. Whilst ever you want me.’ He spoke softly, his expression open and sincere, his embarrassment replaced. ‘I am yours to command and control.’

She shook her head then. ‘I don’t want control Severus.’ She saw him nod accepting the truth behind her statement, her implied sentiment of equality, of freedom, his freedom of choice remaining unspoken but fully understood. ‘But I do want to be closer.’ She dropped her chin and glanced at up at him through her lashes as she spoke her desire.

‘I’m not sure you can be any closer if you tried.’ Severus smirked then, relishing the feel of her pressed so tightly against him, only their thin layer of clothing separating him from her warm skin.

She slapped her hand gently on his chest in admonishment of his teasing. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’

He let the smile leave his lips, its hint still lying deep in his eyes. ‘Do you, Little One, know what you meant?’ He kept his voice low as his hands splayed across her back.

‘Yes.’ She answered her expression defiant, before she shook her head, her confidence slipping slightly. ‘No.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes dropped to his chest once more. ‘Not really. I haven’t had the best introduction…’ her voice faltered then as she closed her eyes, remembering.

‘Hey.’ He placed a hand gently under her chin and directed her eyes back to his. ‘It’s ok if you don’t…’

‘Stop. Severus.’ She interrupted, her fire returning. ‘What happened was  _not_ your fault. And it doesn’t change how I feel about you. What I want.  _From you._ ’ She lowered her voice again as she glanced away. ‘But I am going to need to you to help me get past it.’ She brought her eyes back to his, her expression determined once more. ‘Will you teach me?’ Her hand found his chest, his heart once more. ‘I want this,  _you_ , more than you can possibly imagine.’

‘I can imagine. The feeling is more than mutual Hermione.’ He cupped her face in his palms. I will help you.’ He smiled gently as he looked down into her upturned gaze before dropping a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. ‘Because I love you.’ He spoke the words quietly as he lifted his head to watch her.

She grinned widely, her eyebrow raising in insinuation. ‘Now?’ She practically bounced in his grip.

He rolled his eyes, his expression now one of feigned boredom. He sighed dramatically before he broke into a huge grin, as he swung her into his arms, pulling her tight against him as he cradled her against his chest. ‘Oh if I must.’

\-----

AN// Hold onto your hats people… and if you’re under 18 – take them off, cover your eyes and run away.

\----

Chapter 37

‘Oh if I must?’ Hermione pulled away slightly, her hands braced on his chest as she pushed herself back far enough to allow her to frown at his last utterance. ‘Oh if I must?’ Her voice full of mock-annoyance as she slapped him lightly on the chest. ‘You make it sound like a chore.’

‘It’s so easy, Little One.’ He gathered her closer, smiling still as he pressed a kiss against her temple, carrying her through the bedroom door and towards the bed.

She shook her head. ‘Only you could make something like this sound like an inconvenience.’ She continued having not heard his reciprocated gentle teasing of her.

He stopped short then, a few steps from the bed. ‘Is that how I made you feel?’ He spoke softly, his expression horrified. ‘That teaching you, that making love to you will be an inconvenience?’ He lowered her carefully to the floor, his eyes locked on hers, his hands not straying from resting on her upper arms. ‘Oh Hermione, I am so sorry.’

Her face fell then, her expression growing serious, her eyes shimmering as she dropped her head to avoid his gaze. ‘No, I’m sorry.’ She caught her lower lip in her teeth for a second as she fought to control the sudden wave of tears that threatened to engulf her. ‘I was teasing. Despite all my eagerness, my excitement, my desire, I’m nervous and I was trying to deflect.’ She shook her head, blinking to clear her eyes. ‘And I hurt you. Again.’ She found his gaze then. ‘And I’m sorry, Severus I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing.’

He let his expression soften as he continued to look down at her. He raised his hands, running them gently up her arms to cup her face in both his palms. He watched her eyes close at his touch, felt her exhaled breath move past his wrists. He waited a moment for her to reopen her eyes and focus her gaze on him once more. ‘I will not only teach you Hermione. I will worship you.’ He whispered, his head lowering slowly as he spoke, his statement punctuated with a soft press of his lips against hers. He straightened, his arms shifting to engulf her as he swept her into his arms once more and strode from the room, enjoying her surprised gasp, loving the way she clung tightly to him even more. ‘But first, my love, we will start over.’ He smiled down at her as she giggled at his words, his intent. ‘So where were we?’

‘We were in the bedroom.’ She bounced her eyebrows at him as she returned his smile. ‘But now we are back in the lounge room.’

‘Indeed we are.’ Severus schooled his grin. ‘Is this not where you want to be?’ He gave her a squeeze, pulling her closer to his chest, his actions implying the significance of his question.

‘I,’ she placed a hand on his jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek ‘want nothing more than to be in your arms Severus.’ She grinned impishly then, holding his gaze. ‘It’s just that I think, if everything I’ve read is correct….’ She paused for a second after her admission, letting her reminder of her lack of knowledge sink in, as she gathered her courage to continue. ‘I think I’d really rather be under you. Or over you. Or…’ She shrugged again as she left her sentence hang, her inexperience proving her undoing once more. ‘All I know is, I thought a bed would be involved.’

‘A bed you say?’ He quirked an eyebrow at her, turning to carry her back through the bedroom door. ‘I have one of those.’

‘You do.’ She giggled again as he bent and placed her in the very center of his bed. He stood, looking down at her, watching as she sat back resting on her hands, her knees slightly raised, her eyes never leaving his.

‘Now what?’ She whispered.

He smiled gently then as he knelt down before her, crawling his way over her body, forcing her backwards, to lie down as he covered her body with his. ‘Now we make you comfortable.’ He held his body mere centimeters from hers, his weight balanced on his knees and forearms, his fingers snaking their way into her hair to allow him to cradle the base of her skull as he rested over her. He heard her soft intake of breath, saw her pupils dilate at his close proximity. ‘Are you comfortable Hermione?’ He questioned smoothly, his already deep tenor lowering even further. He felt her shudder under him, his words, his position, his tone having the exact effect on her as he had hoped. He smirked then as she nodded once, her wide eyes blinking ever so slowly, as her teeth found her lower lip once more. He leant forward, closing the distance between them, the pressure of his mouth on hers forcing her to release her lip, an action he took full advantage of as he sucked her now freed lip between his.

She felt his body shift slightly and he rolled to lie beside her, his legs running parallel to her own bent ones, his thighs pressed so intimately against hers, his heat permeating through her jeans. His chest rested ever-so-lightly against her ribs as he leant over her, his lips still moved over hers. She gasped as his hand stroked its way down her side, his thumb she was sure, skimming across the edge of her breast until it came to rest on her lifted thigh, his large palm sending heat spiraling through her, making a soft moan escape her.

He wasted not the opportunity her low whimper, her gasp offered him, slipping his tongue gently between her parted lips to stroke her own warm organ. He used the hand still behind her head to angle her further, granting him greater access as he all but drove them both wild with anticipation of what was to come. His other hand, resting on the back of her thigh, slid lower still, his fingers finding the curve of her ass as he gently tightened his grip, feeling her supple flesh move in his grasp. He released her mouth to smile down at her as she groaned, as she wriggled under him, against him. ‘Are you not comfortable my love?’ He teased, shifting his hand to trace light patterns across her abdomen with the very tip of his fingers, his hand snaking his way under the hem of her shirt to touch her warm skin.

‘I’m so…’ she glanced down at her lifted shirt, at the lump moving under it, picturing his hand on her stomach for a second before bringing her gaze back to his. ‘So, hot Severus. Is this normal?’

‘Perfectly.’ He leant forward placing yet another kiss on her lips. ‘You are perfect Hermione.’ He spoke softly, reverently as he held her gaze. He quirked an eyebrow. ‘But let’s see if we can make you even more comfortable shall we?’ While he teased her, his voice full of promise, his hands moved slowly towards the hem of her shirt, his gaze holding hers as he waited for permission. He saw her nod, her eyes closing as his hands closed around the fabric.

She felt his hands slide up her sides, their action pushing her shirt upwards before he came to a rest just under her breasts, his warm calloused hands settling against her ribs. She opened her eyes in time to see him lean forward and press a kiss against her abdomen.

Retracting, he sat backwards, his hands lifting her into a seated position before him, holding her up long enough to drag the shirt over her head and toss it, with a grin, over his shoulder, the item disappearing from view as it sailed across the room to litter his previously barren floor. He saw her blink once in startled confusion as he pushed her backwards gently once more all the while shifting himself to stand and loom over her prone form. His eyes landed on her now revealed black lace bra, the edges trimmed in green lace as his hands found the button on her jeans. He made short work of the clasp, edging the zipper down once the button was freed. Stepping backwards, away from the bed, he carefully slid her jeans down her body, grateful for once for the fact that she had foregone shoes in his quarters, pleased to not have to negotiate sneaker removal in his quest to bare her to him.

She watched as he stepped backwards, her jeans in his hands and froze, his eyes the only part of him moving as they roamed over her, taking her. She swallowed, watching, waiting for him to say something about the scars that still littered her body, to acknowledge that the largest part of her was her hair, and that was neither soft nor appealing and as some of the other more well-endowed girls had led her to believe boys, or men as she stared up at Severus would always prefer well-rounded breasts to unruly bushy, suffocating hair. She blinked rapidly as she tried to gage his reaction to her near-nakedness; his speechlessness, his lack of movement not instilling confidence in her.

He saw her eyes glaze over, a sheen of tears threatening to fall and he knew that he had stalled too long in his appreciation of her. He dropped the jeans and shifted quickly to kneel before her once more, catching her hands as she moved to attempt to shield herself from his eyes. ‘You are beautiful Hermione.’ He breathed. ‘Truly beautiful.’ He moved towards her, his eyes holding her gaze as he gathered her hands into one of his and reached for her face with the other. His palm rested against her as he stroked his thumb across the skin under her eye. ‘I am in awe. I do not deserve you.’ He saw her blink then, her fire returning as she made, he assumed, to defend her decision, her choice of him. ‘But I will always cherish this. I will always cherish you.’ He smiled then. ‘I will not take you for granted Hermione. I will tell you how beautiful you are every day.’ He watched the blush color her skin, spreading from her cheeks down her throat to the top of her chest. He saw the joy in her eyes as his words, his sincerity sunk in.

She reached for the buttons securing his shirt, shifting towards him, pulling herself closer. ‘Let me see you Severus. Let me see you too.’ She whispered, her eyes searching his for acknowledgement of her request. She saw him nod, almost imperceptivity as his hands fell away from her, giving her room to move, to complete her goal.

He watched her brow furrow as she struggled with the many buttons that adorned his chest, securing him from the world. He smirked as she swore softly under her breath, her fingers having slipped from the buttons once more in her haste to see them equally unattired. ‘Sometimes it is just easier to…’ he let the statement hang, his voice teasing as he waved a hand, banishing his shirt to the ever growing pile of clothing on his floor.

‘Show off.’ She muttered, her attention turning to her hands. She raised her eyes to his, quirking a brow as she did so, her expression challenging as she mimicked his movement and sent his pants sailing across the room, leaving him kneeling before her in only his black boxer briefs now.

‘Know-it-all.’ He chastised fondly, a smile on his lips, his eyes creased with his amusement.

‘Severus.’ She dropped her eyes to his chest, her hands following to rest against his skin, her fingers finding the light dusting of deep black hair covering his pectorals. ‘I don’t know it all.’

‘You will.’ He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body flush against his. ‘You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of love-making," His eyes danced as he spoke in barely more than a whisper. ‘As there is little foolish wand-waving here,’ he winked at her before skimming both of his hands around behind her to land on the clasp of her bra. A flick of his fingers saw the item fall from her loosely, to be gathered up in his hands and tossed carelessly across the room with the rest of their already discarded clothing. ‘You will hardly believe this is magic. But this IS magic. The basest of all magics.’ He ran his hand gently across her shoulder, pushing her hair to fall down her back, leaving her front open to his appraisal. ‘I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of softly stroking,’ he dragged the backs of his fingers down her chest, between her breasts.

‘You’ve said this before.’ She breathed out under his ministrations.

He quirked an eyebrow before letting his face grow serious once more. ‘Of shivers of expectation as the merest touch, light as breath sets your nerves on fire.’ He leant forward, his breath falling on her exposed breasts, the heat of his mouth, mere millimeters away causing her nipples to pebble. ‘That delicate power,’ He sat, shifting his hands to rest on her upper arms pausing for a second to take in her heavy breathing, the rise and fall of her chest, the darkening of her eyes, the way she flicked a tongue over the corner of her lip as she watched him, wide-eyed, ensnares. He lay her backwards then, stretching her out under him once more. ‘The control of liquids that creep through human veins,’ his fingers traced up her side, to draw a circle around one puckered breast. ‘Bewitching the mind,’ continuing his travels he teased her lips, his finger lighting running across her mouth. ‘Ensnaring the senses...’ He leant forward then, replacing his finger with his mouth, his hands now free to remove her final piece of clothing, the last scrap of black lace protecting her from him. ‘I can teach you how to evoke the madness that only a kiss from your lover can fix.’ His words, whispered against her lips sent shivers through her body, goosebumps covered her skin. He withdrew far enough to let his eyes roam freely over her, his expression one of adoration, one of unbridled lust. ‘You are exquisite. Let me worship you Hermione. Like the goddess you are.’

‘Severus.’ She breathed as his mouth found her right breast, his tongue lapping at her skin as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. She felt his hand trace back down her side again to dance across her heated skin, to wander a scorching trail towards her center, his fingers deftly bewitching her mind, as his mouth held her mesmerized, ignited her senses. Her head fell back as her mouth opened in silent wonder as his finger found its mark, the sound of her gasp filling the air as she felt his touch spiral through her, her blood speeding up as it raced through her veins. She could feel every inch of him pressed against her skin, his muscles ripping under her touch as her hands found his back. She pulled him closer, trying to feel him even more. ‘Severus please.’

Her pleading, his name in that tone almost brought him undone as his fingers delved deeper, pushing into her center to rub not only at her nub with his thumb, but to curl his long fingers towards her inner wall. Expertly he stroked her, driving towards the precipice, waiting for her, feeling her muscles clamp around him, hearing her small whimpers of pleasure, watching her writhe under his ministrations.

Her eyes found his for a moment before they rolled, of their own accord, backwards as her pleasure overtook her. She felt the heat run through her, the pinpricks of passion all over her body, the expanding of her lungs as they finally released their air, as her body succumbed to his teachings. ‘Oh god.’ She breathed as her eyes found his once more. ‘That was. Severus, I don’t even know.’ She shook her head. ‘Severus.’

He chuckled then. ‘That was only the beginning, my love.’ He pressed a kiss to her mouth.

‘There’s more?’ She blinked rapidly, her brain slow, foggy as she tried to process his words, his intentions.

‘So much more.’ He smiled then. ‘If it pleases you.’

‘Do I look pleased?’ She returned his smile, her hair spilling about her head in a halo of chaos. A light sheen of sweat covered her skin, sparkling in the firelight.

He grinned wider, his hand resting on her cheek as he hovered over her. ‘I’m too much of a gentleman to tell you how truly debauched you look.’ He silenced her with a quick kiss before lifting his head once more. ‘But you look very pleased indeed.’

‘And are you pleased?’ Her eyes grew concerned then.

He pressed himself closer, letting his erection slide against her thigh.

‘I have done nothing for you.’ She whispered.

‘Hermione you have done EVERYTHING for me.’ He punctuated his statement with another kiss.

‘Well, not everything.’ Her hand ran down his chest to wrap shyly around his member through his black boxer briefs. She jumped slightly, releasing him as he took a shuddering breath at her touch. ‘Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.’

He caught her hand and brought her back to himself. ‘I am not hurt Hermione.’ He spoke seriously, holding her gaze. ‘I am experience anything but hurt right now.’ He guided her grip, sliding her hand across himself, over his boxer briefs.

‘But it could feel better?’ Her hands found the waistband of his boxer briefs. Emboldened by his declaration she slipped a hand inside, her fingers touching his taut skin for the first time. She watched his eyes close, his jaw clench as she mimicked the early actions he had guided her through.

‘Oh yes.’ He ground out through clenched teeth. He waved a hand absentmindedly, disappearing his underwear completely. He rolled slightly, pulling her over him, laying back to allow her access to him, unhindered by clothing, by their previous reversed position. He watched through hooded eyes as her gaze roamed him openly, her keen observation taking note of every nuance of his face, every twitch she evoked through her careful stroking, her exploration.

‘Severus?’ she wrapped her hand about his shaft, holding steady as she brought her eyes back to his.

‘Yes my love?’ He opened his eyes to regard her, to give her his full attention as she deserved.

‘I want to make this better for you.’ She saw him open his mouth to argue, to assure her that it was already good. ‘Even better.’ She self-corrected, smiling slightly as he quirked an eyebrow in acknowledgement. ‘Show me how.’ She pressed a quick kiss to his chest before she rolled to lie back down beside him. She turned her face to look at him. ‘Show me how we will fit together. How we can be one.’

Severus moved to loom over her again, crawling between her knees, covering her body with his as he looked down on her. ‘You are sure?’ he slid his hands under her shoulders, lifted her slightly to allow him to rest his forearms beside her, his hands coming to rest under the base of her head once more. He lowered himself down to press against her, his tip just touching her as he rocked gently against her, resting securely cradled in her open thighs.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.’ She held his gaze. ‘I trust you Severus.’ She smiled up at him then. ‘And I love you.’ She saw her words register. ‘Make love to me Severus.’ She whispered.

He lowered his head, his lips finding her as he began to rock in earnest against her, his tip pushing in ever so slightly further with each rock forward, his outward movement allowing her to get used to the intrusion before he filled her completely. Lifting his head to watch her, her reangled his hips slightly, preparing for the final push, the one that would take away her innocence, the one that would make her his. His hands shifted to the sides of her face, his fingers brushing against the skin of her jaw, his eyes locked on hers. He pushed deep, watching as her mouth opened, as her eyes closed, as her breath shuddered under him. He paused, seated deeply, watching, waiting for her to turn her attention back to him.

‘Oh Severus.’ She breathed after an eternity. ‘I can feel you.’ She caught his eyes. ‘Everywhere.’ Her hands grabbed for purchase on his shoulders, her nails sinking into his muscle. ‘I can’t tell where you end and I begin.’

‘I will show you.’ He dropped a quick kiss to her lips before he withdrew slightly. ‘This is you.’ He offered as he dragged his shaft almost completely from her. ‘And this is me.’ He punctuated the statement with a thrust, gentle, but undeniable as he seated himself to the hilt once more.

‘Ahhhh.’ She shuddered under him. ‘Show me one more time.’

‘This is you.’ He repeated as he withdrew again. ‘And this is me.’ He rammed himself in with just a tiny bit more vigor as he watched her, writhe under him again, his tip touching her innermost point possible, her muscles squeezing every inch of his shaft mercilessly. ‘Do you have it now?’ he questioned, a soft smile on his face, knowing before she even answered what that answer would be.

‘Perhaps just once more for good measure.’ She grinned up at him though her lashes, the corner of her lower lip caught in her teeth.

‘For thorough teaching.’ He smirked back at her.

‘Of course.’ She grinned even wider, her hands pulling him tighter against herself. ‘I expect nothing less Professor Snape.’

‘This is you.’ He withdrew, lifting himself up further, hovering over her, the angle changing his trajectory significantly. ‘And,’ he slammed in, ‘this is me.’

She felt his body collide with hers once more, the force jolting her insides, stroking her from the inside out, taking her breath away as she tried desperately to keep her focus on him despite the way her eyes continually slammed closed or rolled backwards. She could feel the tension building, her body tightening in on its self, her muscles all primed ready for the next round of fire he was to send through her.

‘I’ve got you.’ He leant forward again, cradling her trembling body as close to his as her muscles pulsating under him, around him. He could see the conflicting emotions, the pure unadulterated pleasure warring with the questioning the unknown clearly in the furrow of her brow, in her wide-eyed gaze catching his between her moments of incoherence; her eyes squeezed shut, her breath catching in her throat. ‘Let it go Hermione.’ He whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. ‘I’ve got you.’

She felt her body grow impossibly rigid for a moment more before the heat rushed through her again, the pin-pricks of pleasure chasing their way from her core along her limbs, through her hair. Its wash, leaving her boneless, relaxed and radiating a type of euphoria she was certain she would never be able to emulate again.

His own orgasm crashed as he felt her muscles grow impossibly tight around him, squeezing him for all they were worth. His breath caught as his body shuddered, his arms threatening to give out and sending crashing down onto her. A cool heat spiraled out through his veins, the pleasure so exquisite he was forced to drop his head, close his eyes and break away from witnessing her unravelling beneath him, his own release just too much. After a moment he regained his senses, feeling his heart beat rapidly in his chest, racing. He could feel hers, beating in almost time with his from where her breasts were crushed under his chest. Slowly, as his arms began to shake from exertion he moved to the side, pulling her flush against him, encircling her protectively in his arms, his lips to her temple, her cheek upon his chest. He gently stroked his fingers across her exposed back. He heard her sign softly as she snuggled further against him.

‘Hermione,’ he waited until she lifted her head to catch his eye. ‘You are everything I could have ever wanted. And I hope, that what we just did, well I know you don’t have anything to compare it to…’ He glanced away for a moment steeling himself before turning his gaze back to hers. ‘You will tell me if I hurt you?’ his voice faded to a whisper, his true concern coming to light, darkening his features.

‘I know I don’t have anything to compare it to, but, you were wonderful.’ She smiled at him. ‘I just hope I did ok.’ She spoke quietly, her eyes grew serious. ‘You know I never like to let anybody down. I’ll get better I promise.’

‘Oh Little One, you were perfect.’ He smiled then, his free hand cupping her cheek as he continued to rub small circles on her back.  ‘Outstanding even.’ He watched her blush under his gaze.

‘Do you mean it?’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to read his expression.

‘Do you really mean you’d like to do that again?’ He quirked an eyebrow, making reference to the implied meaning behind her offer to improve.

She grinned widely as she snuggled back down into his embrace. ‘Maybe not right this second, but I would in fact like to very much do that again. As often as possible.’ She nodded against his chest. ‘So yes, I meant it.’

‘And so did I.’ Severus pressed a kiss on the top of her head, holding her close. ‘And we can do that anytime you like. You just need to ask. Or tackle me. I don’t mind which.’ He felt her giggle against him, her body trembling in mirth in his arms. He rolled them then, moving to lean over her, to look down on her. ‘I love you.’ He offered, his expression sincere, his tone full of adoration.

‘I love you too Severus.’ She caught his head, her fingers tangling gently in his hair and pulled him down towards her waiting lips.

As their lips met her heard the floo in his outer room flare to life. He froze, lips against hers, his body covering hers, listening, preparing to defend her with his life if necessary.

‘Severus? Hermione? Where are you?’

 He relaxed slightly at the Scottish brogue that bellowed into his bedroom, the distress, the tone causing him to break the kiss, to lift his face away from his lover’s all the same. He turned slightly, still covering her body with his. ‘We’re in here.’ He offered, loud enough to direct Minerva into their chambers as he pulled the sheet up over Hermione, covering her completely as they booth sat up.

She strode through the door, giving not a second thought to the possible implications of the Headmaster and his charge being ensconced in the bedroom in the early afternoon. ‘Oh I see.’ The words were muttered as she crossed the threshold, pausing only in relief that they were now covered; the sheet askew over his waist, her chest. ‘Well, I hope you finished,’ she raised a greying eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest and leant against the doorframe, her expression smugly proud as she took their dishevelment as a positive sign to her encouraged apology. ‘Severus we have a problem.’ She straightened then, her face pinching in concern once more. ‘Potter and Weasley are here.’

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

As their lips met he heard the floo in his outer room flare to life. He froze, lips against hers, his body covering hers, listening, preparing to defend her with his life if necessary.  
‘Severus? Hermione? Where are you?’

He relaxed slightly at the Scottish brogue that bellowed into his bedroom, the distress, the tone causing him to break the kiss, to lift his face away from his lover’s all the same. He turned slightly, still covering her body with his. ‘We’re in here.’ He offered, loud enough to direct Minerva into their chambers as he pulled the sheet up over Hermione, covering her completely as they booth sat up.

She strode through the door, giving not a second thought to the possible implications of the Headmaster and his charge being ensconced in the bedroom in the early afternoon. ‘Oh I see.’ The words were muttered as she crossed the threshold, pausing only in relief that they were now covered; the sheet askew over his waist, her chest. ‘Well, I hope you finished,’ she raised a greying eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest and leant against the doorframe, her expression smugly proud as she took their dishevelment as a positive sign to her encouraged apology. ‘Severus we have a problem.’ She straightened then, her face pinching in concern once more. ‘Potter and Weasley are here.’

Chapter 38

‘Harry’s here?’ Hermione rolled from the bed, dragging the sheet with her to maintain as much modesty as she could. Her dignity, she was certain, had flown out the metaphorical window with the discovery of her presence in Severus’ bed by her once Head of House, the Deputy of the school.

‘And where do you think you’re going?’ Severus moved after her, his body shifting to block her retreat as his hand wrapped about the end of the sheet, holding not only her in place as he held the tail over his groin.

‘Maybe if I spoke to him.’ She continued, ignoring the raising of his eyebrow, the look of question McGonagall shot in her direction. ‘You know what he’s like. He’s going to run in here all action and no thought. Someone’s going to get hurt.’

‘I don’t want that someone to be you.’ He spoke softly as he held her gaze. ‘Hermione, it can’t be you.’

‘I’m the only one who can…’ she stopped then, her face dropping as she remembered. ‘I’m the only one who can’t. I can’t help can I?’ 

‘Not if you wish to live. Beyond this war.’ Minerva stepped forward then, into the room. ‘If you go out there now, all this hiding will have been for nought. You will be a target once more.’

‘We will be right back where we started.’ Severus reiterated, his expression serious as he stared down at her, silently begging her to heed their warning, knowing he could not lose her now that he had her.

‘I just want to help.’ She dropped, collapsing gracelessly back onto the bed, her eyes lowering to stare at her fisted hands in her lap. ‘I feel so useless here.’ She shook her head.   
‘You’re all out there, working towards peace, towards ending Volde…him…’ she corrected quickly, watching Severus’ face for a reaction, an indication that she had caught her slip before it had caused him pain. ‘And what am I doing?’

‘You’ve completed your studies. You’re part way through a Potions Apprenticeship.’ Minerva looked down at her most prized student. ‘You’re learning to transform. To be an Animagus.’

‘You stole my heart and gave me hope.’ Severus spoke quietly, offering his observation alongside Minerva’s. ‘And if you managed to do that, god only knows what else you’ve been capable of doing while down here. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t planned an entire battle strategy, developed new spells and improved on old potions.’ He smirked once he saw her blush under his words, knowing he was close to the mark. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed your notes in my books.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She muttered thinking he was truly unimpressed with her defiling his books, his potion recipes in such a way.

‘Don’t be.’ He smiled fully then. ‘They’re quite insightful.’ He quirked a brow at her. ‘And will no doubt change the Wizarding world as we know it.’ He placed a hand under her chin and lifted her eyes back to his. ‘No one will ever accuse you of sitting this war out. You have been as vital as every other person out there fighting.’

‘But that’s just it.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. ‘They’re out there. Fighting. You’re going back out there.’ Her head dropped forwards again to let her look at the floor. ‘And I’m in here. Playing with you dog.’

‘That’s not the only thing you’ve been playing with, My Dear.’ Minerva smirked, watching the blush spread across both of their faces at her intentional innuendo. ‘I’m sure you’ve been playing with every possible scenario to see Mr. Potter victorious.’ She finished off her statement, knowing without a doubt the girl had been anything but idle for the months she had been in secluded hiding. 

‘This needs to be over.’ Hermione’s voice grew stronger then as she attempted to detract from the obvious situation they found themselves in, discussing warfare, undressed, unarmed and under-manned. ‘I need this to be over. I need to get out of here. Severus needs to get out of here. Severus needs to live. To be who he is.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Minerva stepped forward, placing a hand on the man’s bare shoulder. ‘But might I advise getting dressed first.’ She smirked down at both of them.

‘You’re taking this rather well.’ Severus shook his head before locking challenging eyes on his mentor, his friend. ‘The most despised Headmaster in Hogwart’s history caught in flagrante with the Princess of Gryffindor.’

‘I only see two of my favorite people who could not be more suited for each other.’ Minerva smiled softly as she shrugged. ‘And fortunately I arrived after the flagrante part.’  
Hermione giggled then imagining exactly what it would have looked like had Minerva arrived a few moments earlier. ‘That was fortunate.’

‘I’m sure it was beautiful.’ Minerva commented, as though reading the younger woman’s mind. She directed her gaze to glance out the window. ‘It always is. When love is involved.’ She brought her eyes back to the other occupants of the room. ‘But, now we must go and deal with this latest development.’ She took a deep breath, as Severus conjured his clothing to wrap itself about his body. She watched as he stood then, fully clothed, his scowl settled back onto his features, his façade in place. ‘I am sorry Severus.’   
He tugged on the bottom of his frock coat before turning to face Hermione, his face softening just a fraction. ‘I will be back.’ 

‘I’ll be right here. Waiting.’ She grinned then. ‘Probably with pants on… you know, just in case.’

‘Sage will be here in the event of just in case.’

‘I’ll still put on pants.’ Hermione smiled up at him.

‘Not a bad idea.’ Minerva smirked before schooling her features. ‘I will bring him back to you. That I promise Hermione. I have made many mistakes in this war, but not seeing him home safely will not be one of them.’

‘And if your prized Gryffindor, the boy who lived has something to say to the contrary?’ Severus quirked an eyebrow at his Deputy, knowing the answer before she delivered it.

She stood taller. ‘He was Albus’ prize.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And if he attempts to interfere, I will tell him to stuff it.’ She grinned, the expression feral. ‘A moment before I stuff it for him.’


End file.
